


Fairytale Complex

by james_trmtx



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Chubby Reader, Demisexual Sans, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Multi, New Beginnings, Parent Reader, Parenthood, Possible Polyamory or Alternate Relationships, Post-Divorce, Romantic Comedy, Sans/Female Reader - Freeform, Sans/Male Reader - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soulmates, bisexual reader, soft romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 63,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27391306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james_trmtx/pseuds/james_trmtx
Summary: The dichotomy between black and white is your constant when it's time for you to meet the whole new civilization Frisk brought along with them to the Surface.As a parent, it's not easy to trust others when they've hurt your child.So when that new civilization decides they owe Frisk both for saving their kind and for still hurting them during that process, you've got plenty to say to them.Forgive the monsters as easily as you once did with others during a stage of naivety?Oh, hell no.They better have a good reason for hurting your child and an even better one for wanting to be a part of their family.• • •Full Arc List:Arc 1 | RuinsChapters 1 to 15 (× current)Arc 2 | Enemy ApproachingChapters 16 to 25Arc 3 | Pathetic HouseChapters 26 to 30Arc 4 | Spear of JusticeChapters 31 to 40Arc 5 | Here We AreChapters 41 to 50Arc 5.5/Final Arc | Good NightChapters 51 to 55
Relationships: Sans (Undertale) & Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 120
Kudos: 146





	1. Prologue | Once Upon a Time

Finished with a hectic work day, you throw yourself on the couch and beg for it not to give in when you hear it creak. Just as the rest of your home, it's old, worn, and needs replacing. You let out a sigh and bask under what little calm you can find between the worries of a dead-end job and your child recently going missing. 

Many accused the disappearance on your lack of care and overall irresponsibility as their parent, while others blamed it on the myth of monsters existing near the place you suspected they last went to. The first of these assumptions you accepted and blamed yourself constantly for, yet the second of the two was near impossible to even be an option to begin with. Monsters were far away from your village; they were told to be sealed inside the Underground close to Mt. Ebott, and nobody had heard of them in centuries. It was highly unlikely for them to exist there and much less on the Surface, yet there were still some who believed in that myth nonetheless.

Alone in your home, you can only stare at the blank wall before you and think back on the last day you saw Frisk.

...

_"I'm home!" you hear them call, followed by their footsteps thumping against the floorboards._

_They make it to the kitchen and throw themselves at you; their arms wrap around your neck and pull you into a hug. Smiling, you return the embrace, pull back to look down, and meet with their eyes. "Did you say goodbye to Auntie Brenda before leaving?" you ask, tucking a stray lock of hair behind their ear. Their bob and bangs had grown longer and many neighbours said it made them look like a girl, but Frisk never minded over those comments and always insisted on keeping their hair that way._

_"Yup!" they reply, taking a seat next to yours. "We're… We're gonna spend the whole weekend together, right?"_

_"Of course we are, honey." You chuckle upon seeing the worry in their eyes, these holding hope over a positive response on your part. "But first, we've got to study up on History," you add, "Remember you've got a test the day after tomorrow." You pinch their cheek and kiss it better, making them grin and burst into giggles._

_Then, you stand up and head to the living room, where you stop by the bookshelf already covered in a thin layer of dust despite its frequent use. Your eyes scan for the book you'd been recently reading with them, only to find it hidden at a corner, most likely an idea on their part in hopes of delaying their studies for a while. "We'll go over the last chapter. And after that, we can plan what we'll do for the weekend." You turn to them and smile, bumping the book against the top of their head. "But only if you don't try to hide your books away anymore. I know you like school and pay attention all the time, but that still doesn't excuse you from studying up at home."_

_You walk to the couch, sit down, and see their smile fade away when you open the book to one of its later chapters. It was far away from the one you were currently on, yet based on the look on their face, they seem to know what it's about, an assumption that grows stronger when you remember how one-sided the book in your hands is. Frisk was never fond of the stories it told, yet they never had the courage to go against its written words, either. Now, however, you have a hunch over them about to confront that when you see them frown and later open their mouth to speak up._

_"Why do you believe what this book says? It… It says mean things about monsters! Haven't you ever been curious to know what they're all really like?"_

_You look down at the open book and give some thought to their words. Its borders are worn out and the pages are turning a soft shade of yellow, most likely due to the centuries that'd gone by since it was first published. 'The War Between Us' was its title, yet even though it said 'us', the author was biased at times; in more ways than one. It seemed that the more you analyzed it, the more you regretted having believed these stories when you were younger and having thrashed the possibility of beings like them ever existing. The question you've been given adds to your regret, so you pause and take a quick moment to reconsider._

_Deciding it's best to think of a proper response, you flip the pages back to the first chapter and gesture for Frisk to join you. You push your glasses up to the brim of your nose and begin to read the first page._

_> > Long ago, two races ruled over the Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS. One day, war broke out between the two races. After a long battle, the humans were victorious. They sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell..._

_You flip past the introduction page, having already memorized it ever since you were seven._

_> > Those undergrounds, located near Mt. Ebott, are said to be a dangerous place. It is said that those who climb the mountain never return. Many have taken this warning as a joke, yet none have actually dared to step foot on those grounds. Due to this fear of the unknown, many began to form theories as to what happens to those who travel to those lands. These have varied from such a simple thing as being unable or unwilling to leave, to something as dark and fearsome as death._

_> > It is said the monsters residing in this place were not only strange in appearance, but in their actions and customs, as well. Likewise, it is said their way of reproduction is also odd, as it is through their SOULS that they may create another life, and that the way of ending their lives is through the same means. Besides showing their vulnerability through their SOULS, they show it through their words. They advise others to show 'MERCY', as well as to 'SPARE' their enemies whenever possible. _

_> > However, many experts on the topic have agreed these are only myths; bedtime stories meant to dull and straighten up a child's behaviour, to frighten them over what is black and what is white, and to keep them strictly in the latter. It is impossible to believe such narrow-minded and saint-like creatures ever existed, unless it is to dumb down our mindsets and persuade us to be kind to a fault, without ever even questioning why it is said that those who fell into their world never came back. After all, it is without a doubt unrealistic and near impossible for people to cohabit in one same world without causing some form of hurt between each other. It is the same reason why these creatures were said to lose a war with our kind, and why we must avoid being weak and preachy like them; to prevent the same from ever happening to us._

_You close the book with one swift move, deciding you already have the answer to your child's question._

_"Y'know, I… I guess you're right, honey." You sigh, face your lap, and close your eyes, already having a taboo thought at the tip of your tongue. "I've only ever read this book regarding their history. If only I knew more about them, or maybe had another book from a new, different perspective... Then, maybe... Maybe I could know if both sides had their reasons for war, and why we still study them through this book only."_

_Just as they're about to reply, an unintelligible shout erupts from one of the nearby houses. The sound of porcelain hitting the ground and of people arguing with one another can be heard, and soon after, an eerie, yet recognizable silence takes over. Already expecting the worst, you let out a shaky sigh, stand up, and finally gather up courage to inspect what's going on outside the safety of your home._

_"Stay here, Frisk. I'll be back soon."_

…

You never saw them again after that day, and that was almost a full month ago. Your eyes have turned irredeemably red and puffy from how much you've cried and mourned over their loss, though you've tried to keep it to yourself as much as possible. Even so, a few things had been leaked regarding your situation. Nosy and loud neighbours meant trouble, and you already had enough with Social Services and Frisk's school constantly breathing down your neck.

The more days passed since their disappearance, the more rumours began to revolve around you. A silent argument over the hints left behind of Frisk going missing had begun to form, and it shows itself through the tense state of those around you, these split into two groups. Tension's risen between those who blame you and those who blame Mt. Ebott, yet you don't want to favour either side. Simply solving the situation and having Frisk in your arms again was enough for you, even if they were taken away from you by Social Services the day or even the hour after.

Hearing your stomach growl, you shake your head, finally realizing you're becoming too immersed in your own thoughts.

Dinner wouldn't make itself, and though you hated cooking only for yourself almost as much as you loathed the absence of your child and the silence of your home, you have to stand up, dust off, and keep on going.

Fairy tales weren't real; monsters weren't, either. In other words, Frisk's all alone in the world now and nobody's gonna help besides you. Whatever happened to your child, they were most likely suffering or in great danger, and for once, you can't help but wish over the Underground to be real in spite of the myths told about it. Perhaps then, you could have some sense of direction and an idea over just where Frisk could be; and perhaps then, they wouldn't be alone at the knowledge of monsters providing them with shelter and company until your arrival.

Perhaps then, you could rest a bit easy without crying yourself to sleep every weekend with the reminder and the remnants of a broken promise, one you feared would never be fulfilled.


	2. Chapter One | Home

Your phone lights up and buzzes erratically, waking you up and forcing you to get out of bed when it proves to be too far away for you to reach it. The screen marks an unholy five thirty five in the morning, and you can only wonder over what your aunt wants to discuss with you at such an early hour. There's around two urgent voicemails, eleven text messages, and three missed calls, all from her, so you decide on phoning her back to get things over with.

She answers fast, hardly giving the phone a chance to beep once.

"Turn on the TV _right now,_ honey," your aunt shouts, an indistinguishable emotion between anger and shock displayed in her voice. _"Now,"_ she repeats, authority shown in that single word. "And don't forget to call me later. We need to talk." She hangs up after that, leaving you with more questions than you once had.

You raise a brow at the oddity of her call, yet relent with how tired both your mind and body feel. You'd left work at eleven at night, only to arrive home at midnight and fall asleep at one. With barely five hours of rest in your system, you don't exactly feel motivated to watch television, yet that changes when you sit at the edge of your bed, turn it on, and see the first thing there is a breaking news report taking over every cable channel present. No matter which one you switch to, it's there, reporting over the rise of a whole new species of living beings, these capable of human reasoning and conduct, as one of the reporters and even a scientist so claimed based on the little information they've both gathered about the species already. They proceed to display a picture of a large crowd of people gathered near a mountain, these looking straight out of a fantasy novel. They vary greatly, from bipedal, anthropomorphic fish, bears, bunnies, goats, and spiders, to living skeletons, ghosts, and live, humanoid flames. You have to rub sleep away from your eyes and blink a few times to process what's going on, until you see who's standing smack in the middle of them all.

"F- Frisk?!" you shout, breaking the silence of your home and the night.

Almost immediately, you pick up your phone and search for more information on where and when the picture was taken. The sun seemed to be setting in it, and based on when the news had chosen to report on the event, you figure Frisk has to be with that group somewhere around. You access the news channel's main page and see a pinned post asking for information on the child's parents, comment section blocked to prevent a flood in them, along with the share button to keep any second parties from spreading it around more.

_> > A goat lady by the name of Toriel has taken Frisk under her temporary care while authorities regain contact with the child's parents. If anyone reading this post happens to know about their location, number, or any other contact information, please do let us know over at private message, so that we may interview them personally. We have searched far and wide for more thorough information on the child, but Child Protective Services have settled upon keeping that information private, while the child refused to tell us anything else after they found out over what penalties their parents would be receiving. They insist that their primary caregiver is a good person, that they do not know about their secondary caregiver's whereabouts, and that they will not allow anything bad to happen to either of them, refusing to so much as give up their last name to us as a result. However, we are still in dire need of said information in order to interview the parents and perform more proper investigations as to why the child disappeared for a period of almost two whole months._

Below the basic gist stands a shorter paragraph and a photo of a different monster, this one a skeleton instead of a goat woman.

_> > In addition to the goat lady offering to look after Frisk for the time being, another monster has reached out to us and left his number only specifically for the parents. He states it is necessary they meet and that he would like to offer an explanation as to what happened at the Underground and how Frisk got there. If you are one of the parents, please contact us through private message so that we may provide you with his number and further directions on what to do from there._

You check the time of the post, lock your phone, and set it aside when the news returns from a commercial break, this one much shorter compared to usually. 

"Passerby say it sounded similar to that of a bomb going off, yet there were no signs of destruction and nobody near when they made it to the place where they heard the noise. It's estimated the Barrier broke at late evening, and that the monsters left with Frisk barely an hour after that event, without bothering to inform anyone over the missing child's arrival. Authorities claim they've yet to gain contact with Frisk's secondary caregiver and that they are now on their way to contact their primary one. Given the circumstances and the current hour, Child Protective Services believe it best to visit at noon, as they have already tracked down the parent's location and received further information on the subject through social media. That's all we've managed to cover so far, but remember to stay tuned for more at-"

“(Mom/Dad), I'm home!”

Your eyes shoot open and you almost have to double take when you hear that voice. It's followed by a few persistent knocks on the door, though you still go as far as to check the pulse on your wrist to make sure you're still alive. You turn the television off, hop out of bed, and rush over to the living room, where you're greeted with the sight of Frisk standing by the entrance and looking around, their own set of keys balanced on their finger as they take in their surroundings. They continue to look this way and that, observing the changes you've made to the house since they were gone. 

They meet with your eyes and freeze up, taking a small, precautionary step forward. "I… I missed you," they mutter, voice soft and quiet, a large difference from when they announced they were back home. They fiddle with their hands and face at the floor, casting a guilty look at the worn welcome mat as they say, "I'm sorry for… for disappearing like that. But I promise I-"

Before they can finish speaking, you've already made it to their side. Your arms wrap around them and you bring them in for a strong and lasting embrace, tucking their head against your chest, squeezing them tight, and allowing them to listen to your heart beat. "Oh, sweetheart, forget all that," you reply, stroking their hair and kissing their forehead. "I… I missed you, too." You hold them tight and let some of your worries out through another squeeze. It feels almost bizarre having them in your arms again, but it feels right all the same. Every puzzle seems to fall right into place, and the only thing in your mind right now's their well-being. "H- How are you, by the way?" you ask, breaking the hug apart. "Are you hungry? ...Sleepy? And who brought you here? Did they treat you well?"

"I'm okay," they reply, giggling. "Miss Toriel made me some food before we left, and I'm _way_ too pumped to even think about sleeping!"

"And where is Miss Toriel?"

"She left right after we got here. She said she didn't want to bother you now that I'm back, and that you could meet up with her some other time!"

You hug them yet again, still too stricken to let go of them. "I'm… I'm so glad you're back home, dear," you whisper, holding them close as you mutter more sentences with similar sentiments to the previous one. You still can't shake off your shock nor can you believe this is real. The rational part of your brain insists it's no time to be emotional and that you need answers stat, though the emotional part demands you pour all your attention onto the moment and appreciate Frisk's return. You'd cried countless hours, days, nights, and weeks. And all of that pent up regret, confusion, and relief begins to be let out through whispered words, strong hugs, and gentle caresses. "I… I thought you were gone for good, dear, an- and that you left because you hated me." You hiccup at that last statement and hold them tighter, fearing another disappearance. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel bad about me being your (mother/father). And… And I'm sorry for anything I might've done to upset you. I- I'll try to be a better parent for you from now on, and you can tell me over where I can improve. Alright?"

Frisk breaks the hug apart and faces up at you with a frown. "What are you saying? I don't hate you, (mom/dad)!" they reply, gaze furrowed and eyes wide. "I… I was thinking about something else that day. B- But it has nothing to do with you. I promise!"

"Then why did you disappear?" you ask, placing a hand over their shoulder and maintaining your frown. "Why did you run away? ...And just what do you mean by that? What were you thinking about before you disappeared?"

Looking caught, they face the floor and fiddle with their hands again. "...Can we talk about that later? I think I'm feeling sleepy now."

Your glare finally shows through, the rational part of you taking over now. "Don't you _dare_ change the subject, Frisk (L/N). What did you mean by that? What happened before you disappeared?"

"Please, (mom/dad)! I can tell you later," they whine, tears welling up in their eyes. "I- I don't wanna talk about that right now. I miss you. And I… I really wanna be with you right now. I really miss my home, I miss studying with you, and I... I miss going out on weekends with you, too."

You straighten your posture, cross your arms tight, and frown, still unconvinced. "Can you promise me you'll tell me first thing tomorrow, after we catch up today?"

Slowly, they nod. "I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

Frisk smiles bright and wide at your suggestion and at the gesture you make, pinky finger offered out to them. They interlock theirs with yours and let go when you both nod, sealing the deal. "I promise. Could we go watch a movie now?"

"Didn't you say you were sleepy?"

"I sleep better with the TV on!"

"Yeah, right." Despite yourself, you giggle and smile at them. Then, you place a hand on their head and mess up their hair, poking your tongue out when they glare at you. "Let's go, then. Just... Remember me to call my boss so I can take the day off today and go to work a bit later tomorrow."

"...Can you really do that? I thought you could get fired for that!"

"Probably not." You laugh. "But you're my main and only priority right now. And I can just try to find another job after all this's over with."

You offer your hand out to them and lead the way back to your bedroom when they take it. Your heart's still racing and you've yet to acknowledge the fact they're finally back with you, though your happiness continues to persist through it all; they're here and that's all that matters right now. Worry would come in later.

"Why did you move the TV to the bedroom, though?" they ask, halfway through your destination.

You squeeze their hand and stare down at them, managing a guilty and meek smile. "I, uh, might've... _borrowed_ your dad's Netflicks password, and tried watching some movies since you went missing. I could barely sleep at night, so I just tried distracting myself by finding something new to watch." You let go, finally reaching the door of your bedroom. "I also made sure to tidy up your bedroom once a week, just in case you ever came back, so it's all nice and clean if you want to go there later," you say, smiling. "But... I'm guessing you'd want to be with me for awhile now?"

They nod, not an ounce of reluctance present in their actions. "Definitely!" They flinch back and giggle when you kiss their cheek as a response, "Can I, really?"

"As long as you fulfill your promise, then yes. You can stay in my bedroom for as long as you want, dear."

"But didn't you say I was a big kid just last year?"

"Yes, but I…" You chew on your lip and blink back tears, their return finally dawning on you. "I missed you too much to care about that right now."

You turn on the television and access Netflicks, putting on a movie and climbing into bed. They do the same and rest their head against your lap, cuddling against you. You both stay that way for the entirety of the movie, with them close and with your hand on their head, stroking their hair until they fall asleep halfway in.

When you're sure they're out like a light, you allow yourself to cry again; tears continue to go down the more time you spend with Frisk close to your side.

They were back.

Your prayers had been answered, and now you wouldn't have to lay awake at night, feeling guilty and mourning over their loss for hours on end.

Hopefully, Child Protective Services and Frisk's school would go easier on you now; despite what you said about not minding if they were taken away after their return, you _do_ care. Now that they're back in your arms, you can't imagine not having the right to visit them again; a world without them. At that thought, sorrow overflows your mind and you find yourself crying quietly during what's left of another movie, uncontrolled yet quiet as you try not to wake or worry Frisk over your state. You needed to be strong for their sake and for your own as well, if the time to part ways from them ever became a reality.

That's the last thing you think of as you close your eyes, exhaustion finally taking your body for itself. Faint murmurs of an ongoing movie are the last things you hear and the sight of Frisk sleeping peacefully on your lap is the last thing you see. It all feels right, yet not; cherishing these final moments is the only thing you can do for now.


	3. Chapter Two | Heartache

"Please, let me through, child."

"Not if you're gonna take (mom/dad) away from me!"

"I'm not. We just need to talk."

"I'm still not gonna-"

You step in before the conversation escalates. Your hair's tucked back with a headband in order to mask a bed head and your mouth's covered with the palm of your hand to block away morning breath.

"Good morning," you intervene, seeing one of the social workers waiting behind the door, this one left ajar and kept blocked by the chain lock. "Could you allow me a few minutes to go freshen up, please? I apologize for not waking up sooner, but it looks like my alarm didn't go off." You cast a subtle, accusatory look at Frisk, who averts from your gaze just as you're about to question them over it. "Did you turn it off by any chance, dear?"

"...Maybe." They meet with your eyes, pouting as they continue with, "And I'm sorry. But you looked really, really tired, so I didn't wanna wake you!"

"Please go ahead and finish your morning routine, (ma'am/sir)," the man behind the door intervenes, face remaining stoic. "I'll take it from here while you're done."

"It's (miss/mister)," Frisk exclaims, grinning. "(Y/N)'s not married anymore!"

_"Frisk,"_ you snap, teeth gritted. "Stop telling everyone that." A deep, tired sigh escapes you, mind brought back to when they used to say that phrase whenever someone called you that way. Sometimes, you could tell it was simply to correct the person who said it, while at other times, you felt as if Frisk was quite frankly trying to matchmake you with a person they deemed fit to be their new, second step parent. "I apologize for all… this," you add, unlocking the door and allowing the man inside. "I worked overtime last night until eleven, and then Frisk came home at six in the morning, so it's been a bit hectic ever since then."

The man -- built, dark skinned, clean shaven, and apparently named C. Bubbles based on the name tag clipped to his suit -- only nods in response, his role on the CPS team marked down right below it. Sunglasses shield away his eyes, making his already dignified stance more effective. Still, he softens up when he meets with the child's bright gaze and the tidiness of your home, both sights seeming to ease out the tension he carried with him previously. He sits down at the couch while Frisk joins his side, though not before offering him something to eat and drink, as you so often taught them to do with visitors. He appears surprised at that, though only briefly. "Water's fine, child," he says, breaking out a faint, barely catchable smile. "Thank you."

Your worries lessen a bit with that display and you're able to run off to the bathroom to freshen up. You can hear when Frisk hands him over the water and how they start up a conversation, helping you gain some time to get ready. "Did you really mean it when you said you're not gonna take (mom/dad) away from me?" You keep your hand loose over the doorknob, not wanting to enter the bathroom until you hear the man's response.

There's a sudden beat of silence before anything happens, though it's soon broken when he says, "As long as this house is a home to you and that you will prosper in it, I see no reason to take you away from (L/N)." His voice quiets down, and you have to take a few steps away from the bathroom to hear him, who continues with, "To let you in on a secret, our team is…"

You can't hear anything else besides that, his voice now lowered down to a brief and unintelligible whisper. 

It's hard not to be disappointed, yet you digress, open the door, and step into the bathroom, where you brush your teeth, wash your face, and finish off with a look in the mirror, observing the circles under your eyes. They're awfully noticeable and it's no wonder over why Frisk decided to leave you sleeping for a couple of more hours. There's not much of you that looks ready to face the day, almost two months of fretting over their disappearance being manifested through poor health. You'd stopped doing exercise out of sheer exhaustion from working overtime, both out of choice and as a necessity for both emotional and financial means.

Those two months composed themselves of long hours spent in front of a computer screen and sitting in an office chair, resulting in the slow deterioration of your eye sight and an increment on the overall pudginess of your body. You can't see any farther than the mirror in front of you without the rest of it becoming a blur, and a few clothes have grown tight on you despite barely having had much time or motivation to eat anything besides lunch at that time, sometimes a snack depending on how strong your worries were that day. Stress acne and scars of past ones decorate your face all over, as so does a distinctive dishevelment when you take off your headband. 

You're a mess, though you hope to look less like one now that Frisk is back.

With a sigh, you back away from the mirror and proceed to finish off the rest of your morning routine. You do all except take a full shower, not having the time to with the reminder of the social worker still waiting for you at the living room. As a result, you shower only from the waist down and finally throw on the most decent set of clothes you can find when you head over to your bedroom.

When you make it back downstairs, Bubbles is sitting down with Frisk at the dining room, smile made more prominent now as he chats with them and takes a few breaks to eat from the plate set out in front of him, composed of fried eggs, sauteed vegetables, and buttered toast. Frisk has a serving of their own, and there's one more plate left out next to them, presumably for you. They wave at you and encourage you to join them and the man, both who smile at you when you accept.

"Did you cook this on your own, honey?" you ask, smile showing only to fall back into a frown barely a second later. "...You didn't use oil, did you?"

"Miss Toriel taught me how to cook stuff without oil!" they explain, taking a bite off an egg. "I used butter to cook the eggs and lil' bit of olive oil for the vegetables." Something sparks in their eyes as they add, "I... I really wanted to learn how, because _oil_ love you!"

Bubbles covers up a chuckle with a hand over his mouth and a harrumph. He stays quiet after that, allowing you time to respond to their sudden play on words. " _Oil_ love you, too, dear." You bite back a grin and poke a vegetable through your fork, bringing it to your mouth. "So I'm guessing she was your main caretaker at the Underground?" You chew and gulp fast, eager to hear their response. 

"Yup. And a bunch more other monsters, too! You need to meet them sometime," they say, picking up their plate and the man's when they're both done. "But... What about you, mister Bubbles? Do you wanna meet them?"

"I'm obligated to if your (mother/father) will be allowing them to care after you," he replies, smiling. "But yes, I'm... quite interested in meeting them after what you've told me."

"...So does that mean Frisk won't be taken away?" you ask, heart racing. Though you already have an idea as to what his answer could be, you're still nervous; knowing of the common rumours spread about you and what led to Frisk's disappearance doesn't exactly help much with that, either.

Despite the sunglasses covering up his eyes, you can still feel when mischief flares in his gaze. He fights back a smile and watches as Frisk walks off to the sink, where they begin to wash both their dish and his. "Be patient, (miss/mister). You'll have your answer soon," he says. "Though I'm sure you know it already, considering you were eavesdropping on us not too long ago." 

"Y- You noticed?" you sputter, almost choking on a piece of toast. Thankfully, Frisk's also left out a glass of orange juice for you, helping you out.

"No." He chuckles. "But it seems you've just confessed to it."

Feeling embarrassment already creeping on your shoulders, you can only manage a sheepish smile and look away, focusing on Frisk instead, who's already done washing the dishes and busy contacting someone on their phone. "So much has happened in so short," you say, voicing your thoughts out loud. "Now Frisk has a whole new lot of friends that even _I_ don't know about, a phone with access to monster technology, and a big story to tell." You feel a sudden bitterness cling onto your heart, the feeling of being left behind reaching your doubts and insecurities over not being enough as their parent. "It... feels like they don't really need me anymore, so I can't really blame them, you, or anyone else if they feel like it's time they left me."

"They wouldn't let me in earlier ago, and yet you still think that?"

"That's just them still wanting to defend their (mom/dad) as a default."

"And not because they truthfully care about you?" Something appears to dawn on him after he says that. His gaze looks around, whatever he's searching for unknown to you. "Where's their other parent, by the way? Even authorities haven't managed to track that man down."

"Jerry hasn't contacted us for months now. He came to visit weekly, then he started visiting monthly, but now I rarely see him anymore," you reply, letting a frown show through. "I tried reaching out, too, but honestly… He just didn't show up even during the time Frisk went missing."

A hint of sympathy crosses with his face, though he covers it up quickly and carries on with, "So if your ex ever shows up, I'd assume you don't want him around Frisk or your home anymore?"

You face your lap as you consider his question, sorting your thoughts out and setting your bias aside. "That's between him and Frisk." You sigh. "Even though I'd want that, if Frisk wants to continue seeing their father, then I won't try to stop them. I think, despite it all... Frisk still deserves to spend time with Jerry just as much as they do with me, even if I'm unwilling to forgive my ex husband for never showing up during all these stages."

Bubbles maintains a neutral expression and only parts his gaze from you when Frisk ends their call on the phone and approaches your side, picking up your empty plate and cup. They seem to catch on to your need for privacy and excuse themselves off to the kitchen again, where your conversation's partially drowned out by the sound of water running and plate scrubbing. The man frowns, taking off his sunglasses to finally reveal his eyes, warm and softened with concern. "So even though you don't forgive your ex husband and that the chances of him caring about Frisk are slim, taking into account he didn't contact you during the stage of your child's disappearance, you would still allow for him to visit Frisk again?"

You give a slow, reluctant nod and take in a breath, holding onto it. "As long as I'm there and keeping a watchful eye on Frisk, then… Yes." Your chest hurts, yet you try to push through it all. "Jerry can still visit Frisk as long as _Frisk_ wants that, not the other way around."

Thunder rumbles from a distance and one look at the nearby window shows dark grey skies, sunlight barely in sight. Rainy season's soon to begin, and that meant constant, tropical storms all across the map. In contrast to previous years, you aren't prepared in the slightest for any natural phenomenon whatsoever. The last time you went grocery shopping showed to be long ago based on what Frisk made for breakfast; it was a meal far too mellow tasting for their taste buds, these having become more accustomed to the food you made and the sweets you baked for them on the weekends. It's no wonder over why they hadn't simply eaten a big bowl of cereal for breakfast instead.

"I believe I should get going now," Bubbles says, standing up from the dining chair. He smiles at Frisk and carries that expression back to you. "Shall we meet up next week, (L/N)? My only assignment for you would be that you get to know Frisk's monster friends better and that you start distancing them from those who've hurt them." Then, he offers his hand out to you, waiting. "Do we have a deal?"

You take his hand and return his smile. "Of course," you reply, completing the hand shake. "If all of them sound as nice as Toriel... Then I'm sure this'll be easier to deal with." You glance over at Frisk, maintaining your smile. "Right, dear?"

To your surprise, their shoulders freeze up and it takes them a while until they nod in response. "Yeah," they mutter, nodding. "T- They've all been good to me!"

Bubbles seems to catch onto the sudden reluctance in their voice just as quick as you do, though another rumble and clash from the sky interrupts him from that observation -- thankfully. You walk with him to the living room and open the door, letting a cold breeze and the sound of soft rain through. "Your (mother/father) and I will be the judge of that," is the last thing he says as he dismisses himself from the house, leaving you to close the door behind him. 

When both he and his car are gone, you turn your attention back to Frisk and face them with a stern look.

"Are you okay, dear?" Your expression softens at the mere thought of them having been hurt by a monster; picturing it was far beyond your imagination. "What was that back there? Did…. Did any of those monsters hurt you?"

"N- No," they stutter, taking a step back. "I'm gonna go do some laundry now."

"Frisk (L/N), stay put. And don't you dare run away from th-"

They're gone before you can even finish your sentence, leaving you alone with a new worry over their well-being. So far, Frisk had only talked about Toriel and all the good things she'd done for them, along with the monster responsible for their phone and the one they became fast friends with; quite literally named 'Monster Kid', if you so remembered correctly. Not once had they mentioned anything about an ill-intentioned monster or anything bad about the goat lady they often described to you. Only good things followed after her name, so you search your mind for any other monster you can contact about the situation.

And then it hits you.

You access the news network's page again and send a private message asking them over the skeleton's contact information, providing proof about being Frisk's parent to make things go by quicker. The company responds in an instant, beating the record saying it took them an average of three hours to give a reply. They send you a full profile of the monster, along with a new picture of him.

_Full Name: Comic Sans Serif; often goes by Sans_

_Monster type: Skeleton_

_Abilities: Teleportation; telekinesis_

_Gender: Male_

_Age: 22 *****_

_Phone Number: XXX-XXX-XXXX_

_Email: ifloccinaucinihilipilificatemyself@undermail.com_

_Occupation(s): Past Royal Scientist; former Snowdin, Waterfall, and Hotland Sentry; former judge for the Judgment Hall._

_Reason for contact: Would like to speak with Frisk's parents about what happened at the Underground._

_...Is this for real?_

You delete that message with how rude it sounds and simply go for it, reminding yourself of how ridiculous the situation is to begin with and that questioning the logic of a living skeleton with magical powers was pretty much simply wasting away your time right now.

_Thank you for the information._

_Did mister Serif agree to having all this information revealed to me?_

_Absolutely._

_We provide our viewers with only the most updated and factual data we can find, so we consulted mister Serif over the information not long after we learned about him and verified it twice before sending it to you._

_After he contacted us, we sent him that form and he agreed to fill in all of it._

_Understood._

_Thanks again!_

So you were going to meet up with a past skeleton scientist and a former Underground sentry capable of teleportation, telekinesis, and most importantly and surprising of all that: human speech and conduct.

All things considered and with the prior knowledge you had about him, it wouldn't be that strange of a meeting.

...Right?

* * *

***Sans's mentioned age is _not_ canon, but a personal take based on the fact that some of the characters' names on Undernet are CoolSkeleton95, StrongFish91, and Napstablook22, and that it mentions it's the year 201X in the game. If the number 95 refers to his birth date, this means Papyrus could've been as young as 15 and as old as 20 by the time the game came out. And with Sans being the older brother, thus comes my headcanon! (...Aside from the fact that his personality has always given me nihilistic, senior college student vibes, lol.)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone caught on to who social worker C. Bubbles was a reference to...
> 
> The movie's premise hints at a cute n' fluffy moment found (very) later on in the story!


	4. Chapter Three | sans. (Part 1 of 3)

_meet me by the train station._

_the place's bustlin' and tori's here with me, just in case you're worried 'bout meeting a stranger all alone._

_That's surprisingly thoughtful._

_And I'm guessing Tori means Toriel?_

_The goat lady who looked after Frisk?_

_yup._

_she's gotta go deal with some legal stuff 'bout us living on the surface, so she can't stay for long._

_but she'll still be here by the time you get there._

_Hmm…_

_Now that just makes me more suspicious of you._

_Tell me why it's important that only you specifically want to talk to me about this?_

_Doesn't Toriel know about what happened down there, too?_

_yeah, but…_

_i need to talk to you about somethin' else._

_stuff that'll probably be a lil' difficult for me to explain, but that you should still know, being frisk's parent and all._

_Now I'm curious._

_I'm stuck in some traffic, but I should be there soon._

_Would it still be okay with Toriel if I get there in the next ten to fifteen minutes?_

_textin' while drivin'?_

_My aunt chose to drive me here._

_'Cuz she also said she doesn't trust the whole situation much._

_heh._

_alright._

_tori says it's fine. she doesn't need to leave in the next hour so…_

_see ya soon, (l/n)._

_See you soon, mister Serif._

"How's he gonna know who you are if only _you_ have a picture of him?" you aunt asks, eyes locked on the road. Her bright red nails, just as flashy as the rest of her outfit, glisten under the sun, fantasy jewellery and wrist watch doing the same. Her tanned skin almost glows with health in comparison to yours, yet to be healed from the past two months of tension and wait. There's also her signature and almost hair salon professional level of cleanliness when it came to grooming her hair, making her overall, outer appearance far more different and striking when compared to you.

"(Mom/Dad)'s all over the news now!" Frisk says, answering her question before you can even word your thoughts out in mind, too busy noticing how much you've let yourself go in so short of a time.

You plug your phone to the car charger and meet with the side view of your aunt's face. "Like Frisk said. The guy I'm meeting says my face's been thrown out on the news a lot lately, so he already knows what I look like." You pull down the mirror and take a quick look at yourself, eye bags and stress acne now partially covered with a cheap, (s/t) foundation and expression made to look less tired thanks to a full eight hours of sleep. Still, you're far from looking anywhere near to the days before Frisk's disappearance or all the pictures displayed on the news, these from a similar time. All the stress and constant sorrow was still present on most of your features, from something as subtle as the loss of brightness in your eyes to something as noticeable as the drag in your walk and the small slump in your posture.

"Do I look okay, auntie?" you ask, taking advantage of a stop sign.

Brenda spares a quick but meaningful glance at you and a small smile manages to show on her face. She stays quiet even as her eyes go back to facing the road. At a second stop, this one caused by a red light, she looks at you again, saying, "Why are you so concerned about that, dear? I get wanting to look well and dignified for meeting new people, but this is the third time you've asked me today." She giggles when Frisk does, both apparently sharing the same thought. "You look fine, by the way. Though a bit of rest could do you good." The light changes and she carries on driving, slowing down and turning on the signal when she sees the train station to her left. "How many hours do you work, by the way? If you're still working overtime, you should stop that now. Not only for my dear grandchild's sake, but for you to get your long overdue beauty sleep."

"...Sixty hours a week?" you mutter, already anticipating a dramatic reaction from her. Even Frisk seems to notice your answer's not favourable enough to her, so they brace themselves by grabbing on to their seatbelt and pretending they're not paying attention to the conversation anymore.

Staying true to herself, Brenda almost slams the brakes just as she's halfway into parallel parking and snaps her gaze over to you, eyes wide and mouth agape. "What?!"

"Sixty a week," you repeat, louder now. "I had to get my mind off Frisk going missing somehow, so I... took that chance to save up some more by working overtime."

"That's _fifteen_ hours too much, dear." She frowns. "That's either twelve hours a day for five days a week, or working non-stop every day for at least eight to nine hours! No wonder you look so stressed. What about your friends? Your family? Your coworkers?" She seems to notice why you've lowered your voice and does that herself, reminded over Frisk's presence at the back seats. "Oh, honey…" She sighs. "Did you _really_ just work, eat, and sleep those two months they were gone?"

"...Maybe," you reply, looking away from her. "I just didn't know what else to do, and having free time for myself made me feel more guilty about it. The only time I sat down was to watch some TV for when I couldn't sleep at night."

Your aunt finishes parking and lets out another sigh. A gentler look crosses her eyes and she gives in, letting her body relax. "Do you have enough to get by? Please, be honest with me so I can help you out. Alright?"

You smile back at her and nod. "I have enough now. I'm pretty sure I can get by with a regular schedule again."

"With weekends off?"

"With weekends off."

Her smile grows and she unlocks the car, allowing you to step out. "Be careful out there, alright? Just make sure to call me and I'll head back here straight away if anything strange comes up."

"Thank you, auntie. So I'll pick up Frisk at five?"

"Oh, there's no rush. You can always stay the night, anyway!"

After a nod, you get down from the car, open the back door, and climb onto the empty seat left next to Frisk. 

"See you later, dear." 

You kiss their cheek and look at the phone resting in their hands. There were plenty of questions you wanted to ask them, such as who was Alphys and how she'd gained enough knowledge to develop something with that level of technology, and why it still worked up here despite being programmed to function at the Underground. You remind yourself of the people waiting for you at the train station and wrestle those curiosities down, setting all questions aside for later. "Be good, okay?"

They nod, sign a _"Love you!"_ with their hand, and hold you back to give you a yellow sticky note, folded in two. "Give this to him. And don't forget he can be unexpected sometimes!"

You sign an _"I love you, too"_ back to them, take the note, and step out of the car, waving at them and your aunt before closing the door and pocketing the note away. It stays unread, and while you'd like to know what's written on it as well as the reasons for Frisk warning you about meeting with that monster in particular, they'd specified it was for more sillier reasons, like that of meeting up with a stand up comedian, or more frankly put: a clown or a court jester.

Now alone, you take out your phone and check the messages, a new one from 'Mister Serif' showing up.

_hey, uh…_

_tori hadda go._

_an emergency happened, so now she's gotta rush off to the department to see what's up with some documents she turned in._

_i know this seems sus as hell, so just wait for me at a more open area, alright?_

_stick to anybody you're comfortable with and we'll meet there._

_I'm honestly touched at how much you're worried about this._

_Though all that just makes me think I'm being catfished even more now._

_Are you for real, mister Serif?_

_Can someone be as observant and thoughtful as you appear to be?_

_see for yourself._

_> > Attachment - 1 image_

You can't avoid being taken aback when the monster sends you a picture of himself. It's a definite recent one, given he's sitting by a bench close to the train tracks. He holds up a shaka sign with one hand and a coffee cup on the other. A grin decorates his face and the bright lighting shows the picture was taken just now, sun rays piercing through the windows.

_I'm somewhat convinced._

_need more proof?_

_Who are you, my Cinder match?_

_if u wanna._

_Oh God._

_You're killing me._

_inna good way?_

_Perhaps._

You stop yourself when you realize you're on the verge of flirting with someone you haven't even met in person yet, let alone introduce yourself properly to. The picture he'd sent doesn't help either, as you can only begin to question yourself and your morals over having found him attractive for a split second. While it could have just as easily been the surprise of him sending a picture out of nowhere, it could've also been how laid-back he seemed in that picture, striking a shaka sign that made him look just like a surfer dude and a coffee cup to contrast with that vibe, adding a spark of the typical college student you saw at campus, his hoodie and sneakers only adding to that feeling.

It's then that you realize something's off.

If he was holding a cup with one hand and a sign in the other…

Then who took the picture?

Though you're pretty sure you're overthinking the situation now, you're still better safe than sorry and take advantage of your recent fooling around with him to pass that worry off as a joke.

_Wait a minute, mister Serif._

_yeah?_

_If you're holding a cup with one hand and striking a pose with the other, then who took the picture?_

_Or did you use your magic for that?_

_a random dude who looked trustworthy enough took it for me._

_he's one of those guys who're totally ok with us living here at the surface, so he just snapped the picture for me and even asked if it was for a date i was gonna meet and all._

_no magic needed._

_And I'm the President of the United States._

_But, seriously now…_

_Are you for real?_

_yeah._

_> > Attachment - 1 image_

The picture displays him with a bearded, brown skinned man clad in a suit and holding a suitcase, looking ready for work. Still, his smile shows little to no seriousness and instead displays youth and content over having his picture taken with a potential friend. His height surpasses the monster's by half a foot, though when you compare it to the rest of the people in the background, it's clear Serif is simply shorter compared to the average human. You try not to let your eyes linger too much on the monster when you're done looking at the man, not wanting to fall into the trap of your mind having found him attractive earlier ago. Still, you can't help yourself and take a more thorough look at him again, seeing him now with his eye sockets closed, almost mimicking a pair of eyelids squinting in joy. His arm's hung over the man's shoulders, and vice-versa. 

_i made a new pal._

_"meet up already!" - his words, not mine._

_Trying to be smooth, huh?_

_maybe._

_is it working?_

_Somewhat._

_But..._

_Strange Cinder date vibes aside,_

_I'm almost there._

_aight._

_can't wait to meet ya, bud._

You slip the phone back in your pocket and go up the stairs of the train station, stopping when you make it to the line of benches close to the tracks. True to his word, the skeleton sits on one of them and the man who'd taken a picture with him is now waving at him, seemingly saying his goodbyes and headed off to work. You approach the station one careful step after the other, pace slowing down more and more as you feel a sudden awkwardness slip on your shoulders.

Your texts sent off vibes you didn't want present now that you were about to meet him in person. You were still worried about what happened with Frisk a few days ago, and how their happiness pretty much froze when being asked if the monsters had treated them well during their time at the Underground. The one you were about to meet could very well be one of those who'd hurt them, so you brace yourself and try not to be swayed by the softer atmosphere present during your texting with him. You acknowledge the man who'd taken his picture with a wave and a smile back at him. Then, you continue walking and finally approach the bench.

"It's nice to meet you, mister Serif." You acknowledge him with a wave, unsure of how friendly you can be with him.

"Likewise, pal." He holds a hand out to you, bringing forth the warning Frisk had given to you about him.

Out of all the things Frisk had warned you about, it was to be careful around the skeleton, but primarily due to how he seemed to be the type to joke around and prank people often. One thing in particular you were warned about was in shaking hands with him, so right as he offers his hand out to you and just as you're about to reach out, you miss his hand, take a step closer, and pull him along for a hug instead. You then unfold the sticky note and press it against his back with enough pressure for him to feel it and let go when you're done.

"Frisk warned me about you, and even though they haven't told me anything I should be worrying about yet, I _do_ know I should be careful for other reasons. And they told me to give that note to you, by the way."

You sit down and watch as the monster attempts to get the sticky note unstuck, his short height proving to be a disadvantage, as it also comes with shorter arms. He goes as far as to use his magic to get it out, leaving you to bite back a smile and wonder if you've been too rude with him just now. Still, you wait and keep your eyes on the train tracks while he reads the note you've left for him.

"Not gonna say anything about it?" you ask, surprised to hear nothing from him even as he slips the note in his pocket.

"Patience, pal," he replies, words followed with a chuckle and continued with a wink. "Just take it as some friendly payback on my part -- Now we're even." He sits back down and meets with your eyes, his expression changing from humoured to stern at the drop of a hat. "So, what you're sayin' here is the kid hasn't said much about me yet?"

"No," you reply, hesitating. You fight between keeping a smile and a frown. "They've been awfully quiet after I asked them if there were any people down there who treated them badly." You catch yourself becoming emotional, so you breathe and blink a few times to fight that back. "It... It feels like they shut themselves away from me, and now I'm not too sure about how to approach the situation anymore." You stop to catch your breath again, feeling yourself grow anxious already. "They can talk non-stop when it's about all the good things Toriel, Alphys, Papyrus, and… And even what _you_ did for them, but whenever I ask if there was anything that made them feel unsafe, they… They bottle up and run off to do whatever chore there's left to do around the house."

A gust of wind helps freshen up your burning face, product of a train stopping nearby. You wait for him to speak up, body tensed all the while.

"Y'know, I…" The monster sighs, faces down, and rubs the back of his neck, looking lost in thought. "I think I can answer that for ya, but it's gonna be a bit of a long story." He glances at his phone for a moment, seemingly to check the time, and later adds, "Wanna head out somewhere to eat? We can talk about it there over food and drinks. Better than talkin' on an empty stomach, don't you think?"

Despite how somber the mood's become, that trademark grin of his you've already grown used to seems to stand out a lot more now, bringing forth a genuine, welcoming expression in addition to the offer he'd made to you. "Sure," you reply, smile returning. "And... Sorry for dumping all that on you all of a sudden."

You both stand up and make your way out of the station, walking side by side as you continue with the conversation. 

"It's cool, pal," he says. "I'd be a lot more worried if you didn't worry about it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be a whopping 7k+ word long chapter, so it's been divide into 3 parts (between 2k to 3k words each, which is the usual length of each update).
> 
> So... Long story short: there'll be a double update next week in order to post Parts 2 and 3!
> 
> Expect the same thing for whenever a chapter exceeds that limit. :-)


	5. Chapter Three | sans. (Part 2 of 3 | His POV)

Still disoriented by the hug, the skeleton finds it difficult not to spare a glance at the human every so often. Though the train's near empty and it allows for some space between him and (Y/N), he still feels too close to them. It was rare for people to find a way to pay back at him for his constant joking around, and he's quite frankly bummed over learning Frisk had told on him. Though he wasn't one to use the same joke on two different people, he wanted to go a similar route with at least one of Frisk's parents, just to see how much they were alike to their child. As results of his defeat, he can only try to strike up another conversation with them while the train makes it to his stop.

"Frisk told me they lived with you only," he says, breaking the ice. "How's it like being a single parent? If you're, well... single, I mean."

He almost wants the ground to eat him up and spit him back to the Underground with how blunt he'd been just now. And while it wasn't intentional, his question along with the text messages from earlier made him feel as if he was involuntarily flirting with the human. Thankfully, they don't show an immediate reaction, and when they _do_ react, it's followed with a smile.

"It's a bit tough sometimes, but… I'd say as long as you raise your child well and that you enjoy what you're doing, then it can be pretty rewarding." Warmth softens (Y/N)'s eyes and they appear vulnerable for just a moment. "I've raised Frisk on my own since they were a newborn, and it's been nice to see how far they've gone." The human stops talking to stare at him for a second; it's a second that takes far too long for his liking, and one where he feels as if he's being judged just as stern and ruthless as he once was during his time at the Underground. "Are you a father yourself? Your... question kind of makes me think that."

First the hug, and now this.

The kid's parent really knew how to give him frequent, near-death experiences, it seems.

"Uh…" Words stay stuck in his metaphorical throat, until he finally replies with, "No, but I hadda take responsibility over my bro when we were younger." He rubs the back of his neck and looks away from them, their eyes being far too attentive for his taste. "But I'd say it's nothin' compared to being a real parent, though."

"Don't sell yourself short," they say, nudging his shoulder. "I'd like to meet your brother someday. What's his name?"

"Papyrus -- the one you mentioned earlier."

"Do you have pictures?" 

It's almost impossible for him not to be amused at how excited they seem all of a sudden, yet he fights back a chuckle, not wanting for it to be taken the wrong way. He proceeds to search through his phone for a picture of his brother, stopping when he finds one with Frisk in it, too. "Here he is," he says, holding the phone out for them.

He scoots back as subtly as he can manage when they move a bit closer, ending the space of one seat once left between each other. Now, he sits right beside them, and he begins to wonder over how normal it is for a human to be this way; open and chatty. Surely, and just like how every other monster type was different in their own way, then humans had to have similar differences, too. As a result, Sans tries not to let (Y/N)'s sudden proximity get to him and ignores the weird feeling in his non-existent gut when he meets a bit closer with their face, greeted with intrigued eyes and an equally curious smile. "He's so grown up already. I honestly thought he'd be younger based on what you and Frisk told me!"

They move back a little, finally allowing him space to let out a breath and contemplate just what was that weird feeling from earlier ago; the monster couldn't possibly have developed a crush already, and it was far too silly and farfetched to even think about. Simply fooling around a little through text and having them hug him to backfire his prank wasn't near enough for any sort of attraction to build up yet. He tries to tell himself that time after time again, though he can't forget the gentleness of their touch when pulling him in for that hug, nor can he ignore how blatant and bold he'd been with them through texts. Still, if anything had to be fueling those feelings of his, it had to be the sheer lack of contentment he'd been experiencing as of recent, deeming him more vulnerable when it came to making and maintaining new relationships with others.

Sans was down, and while he didn't want to admit it, he needed to go back to some sort of routine and professional counseling to get him back on track. Even Frisk had seen him at his worst at one point, going as far as to admit he'd given up, yet now he's here again, and with the company of their primary caregiver, to boot. The human's eyes stay on him even as he stores the phone away, incrementing the same strange feeling from before. 

"How do you feel being out here now?" they ask. "If you lived underground, I'm guessing up here's much warmer, right? …Or at least most of it, I expect!" They seem to recall something and take a quick moment to gather their thoughts. "Your contact information said you worked in Snowdin, Waterfall, and Hotland. Is… Is the name Hotland true to its name?"

"Very," he says, chuckling. "And Snowdin and Waterfall, too." He knows he's not making eye contact anymore, so he tries to look at them again, but can't bring himself to no matter how many times he tries. "That's actually part of what I wanted to talk to you about."

The human nods with a smile, signaling for him to carry on speaking. The monster finally manages to look at them directly, aware this was most likely the last time they would smile at him after he told the truth about all the stuff that took place back at the Underground. Surely, and just as he suspected was something (Y/N) wanted to talk with him about, a parent wouldn't feel too fond knowing most of his kind had tried to hurt and chase after their child at one point. He's already anticipating an inevitable downfall in the barely-relationship he has with them, but that doesn't stop him from trying to make himself acquainted with them before any of that ever came to be a reality.

"I was wonderin' if you wanted to see what it's like down there," he says, setting those thoughts out to rest. "It could help you understand your kid's journey better, and you could also learn more about my kind, too."

When their smile grows, he almost feels a pang of guilt reach the very center of his ribcage. Knowing he'd hit it off well with them and knowing it wouldn't last long made him feel worse at every second he kept secret all the mistakes his kind made on their own. "I'd love to," they reply, eyes almost lighting up in joy. "So I assume you would be the one showing me there, then?" Sans nods and watches as they rummage something from their pocket, retrieving a notepad and pen; both are patterned with bunnies all over, a sight that makes the monster wonder if that stationary was a gift from Frisk. "That reminds me," they add, offering both items out to him. "Could you tell me if I'm missing anyone on this list?" He takes the items and ignores when their fingers brush with his, just as gentle as the hug felt. "It's supposed to be all the monsters Frisk made friends with there." 

"Sure," he says, flipping the notepad open. A grin returns to his face when he remembers just how many friends Frisk made back there, and how many more they would've likely made had they met the monsters on different terms, and had they stayed at the Underground for longer than they had. "It's gonna be one helluva list, though -- Kid made more friends than I can count."

They cover up a laugh, saying, "Didn't you used to be a scientist? I'm sure you know way more math than me."

"Maybe that's why it says past scientist 'stead of former?"

Though Sans had been joking around himself, he sees a frown fall on the human's face, a sudden change of expression followed by them shifting on their seat. "I'm sorry," they say, meeting his irises. "That was a rude question, wasn't it? It's… It's not exactly polite to bring up a stranger's past like that, isn't it?"

"I mean, yeah, but…" He pauses to observe their change in expression, far too concerned over something so trivial. "I'm okay with being honest, and that's exactly why I'm here, anyway." Their distressed expression stays intact, showing they barely took his words as true. "There's a lotta stuff I could've done and approached differently during my time at the Underground, and now I wanna change that." He doesn't know why he's running his mouth now, but one thing's for certain, and it's that he wants to keep on talking. If he was the judgment card out of all the major arcana, the human sitting next to him had to be either the tower or the hermit. "Maybe I can't tell you all about it right now, but there's a lotta stuff I need to clear up and come clean about before we can get to know each other better."

The train halts and the doors open, his stop finally marking itself on the screen. Only two of the few other people present stand up, and him and (Y/N) are the last two to exit. He walks with them side by side, continuing with the conversation until he finds the place he'd be inviting them over to.

* * *

Finally there, Sans goes with the human to a diner both Grillby and Muffet were jealous of, and just by stepping into the building, he can already tell why. It smells heavenly, its interiors look straight out of a home renovation magazine, and it's bustling with people, but it's still spacious enough not to make the surroundings feel stuffy or cramped. Most occupied tables have a room with a view sort of attraction, large glass panes allowing customers to observe the inner workings of the mall from the comfort of their seat and a cheap and warm meal. As a consequence, there's a couple of empty tables left farther away, these having the privacy of low lighting and no windows nearby, a spot more than adequate for the conversation he would soon have with Frisk's parent. He points at it with his irises and tells them to sit there while he goes to make both orders at the counter.

"Aren't we splitting the bill?" they ask, a hand already searching around for their wallet.

"I made the invite, so it's only fair I pay," he replies, winking at them. "Besides, after what we're gonna talk about here, you'll probably be mad enough to never talk to me again."

"How does that correlate with us not splitting the bill?" They quirk a brow, smile, and take a seat at the empty table nonetheless. "And who says that? We haven't even gotten to talk about anything too serious yet."

He laughs. "Believe me when I say the situation down there was a big ol', complicated mess." His gaze wanders to the counter, seeing only a line of two people waiting for their turn. "So here's to hopin' a lunch with you and treating you to it makes things a lil' bit less tense between us."

"You're trying to bribe me with food, is what you're saying?" Their smile grows and they relax on their seat.

He snickers. "Depends on how ya look at it, pal."

With that, he leaves the human at the table and goes off to the ordering line, setting the topic aside from his mind to focus on making the orders and taking the correct amount of currency used at the Surface. It takes no longer than five minutes for it to be his turn, though when it's time to finally say both orders, he freezes and so does the cashier when he looks at the table Sans had just walked out from. The name tag on the man's uniform shows to be a familiar last name; it's the only other last name besides (Y/N)'s found in Frisk's full name. 'Jerry', his first name reads, the owner of the name being a six foot tall hunk with tanned skin, plenty of muscle, blond hair, a sharp jawline, and every other feature one could expect out of the typical jock character seen in some American movies he often found thrown at the Underground's dumpster, source from where Alphys got her anime, Mettaton his glamour, and Napstablook their music.

The man's customer service smile falls to a near death stare when he meets with Sans's gaze, his glare and height enough to make the monster feel cornered.

"Is that _(Y/N)_ over there?" Jerry asks, pointing with his eyes over to where they sit at. "What's a guy like you doing with my ex?"

Sans grins, resists the urge to roll his irises, and lifts his gaze up higher, not wanting to be towered over by the man behind the counter. "What about you, pal? That ex you're talkin' about, Frisk, and even CPS have been lookin' everywhere for ya. And now you jus' suddenly appear outta nowhere?"

"Oh, that's real damn rich coming from a guy who threatened my kid with _death."_

Oh.

Oh no.


	6. Chapter Three | sans. (Part 3 of 3 | His POV)

As if being blessed by Lady Luck herself, the owner of the establishment calls for Jerry to tend to unloading inventory, forcing him to end his glare on Sans and move his attention elsewhere. His internal conflict manifests itself through physical means, as he stays frozen in place to settle between keeping his job and minding his business with the monster. With another call from his boss, louder and firmer this time in comparison to the friendly reminder from earlier, he clenches his jaw and loosens it up with a scoff. "You're _damn_ lucky the place's packed," he says, looking back towards Sans again. He takes a stray receipt from the counter, takes a pen, and scribbles something on it, handing it over to the monster when he's done. "Take this, and stay the hell away from my family."

"So like you're doing?" Sans counters, snickering.

"Screw off."

The man leaves him be with those last two words and another worker takes his place behind the register, looking fatigued from presumably having to deal with all the work at the back by herself. The expression on her face says it all: she overheard only some parts of the conversation, and was either curious to know more about it or misinterpreting the situation altogether, though she doesn't mention a word about it. Rather, she picks herself up and greets him with a smile. "Good afternoon, sir. For here, or to-go?"

That simple question settles a puzzle in Sans's mind; given he barely knew the human waiting for him at the table, he couldn't make any rash decisions, so he considers all the options through and through. He could make an easy escape from meeting with Jerry again simply by choosing to-go, yet he still wanted to talk with (Y/N) about the subject of Frisk and the Underground. Not only that, but ordering to-go without informing them about it wasn't something normal for how much they knew each other; rather, it would seem rude to decide without giving the human a chance to speak their thoughts on the subject. And if he invited them to eat their orders out elsewhere, it would look wrong; either like he really _did_ mean his vaguely flirty texts, or that he didn't feel comfortable enough with them around.

"Sir?"

"To-go, please," he blurts out, it being the first thing on his mind.

The monster tells her both orders and is then asked to wait. He does so by walking off back to the table, where Frisk's parent still waits at, either completely oblivious of what went on at the register, or masking it based on their calm look and nonchalant sitting position. Their expression takes a turn when they meet with his irises, and they speak up when he's finally close enough for them to make their words hushed. "That was my ex-husband, wasn't it?" they ask, smile strained and brows furrowed. "Could we, uh… take our orders-"

"To-go?" he intervenes, chuckling.

Their smile loses some of its tension, and they let out a laugh. "How did you know?"

He sits with them at the chair across from theirs, nudging himself to an angle where he shields them from the ordering counter. "Between you saying he stopped visiting and that he didn't show up when Frisk went missing, I'd say you're not exactly head over heels for 'im anymore." 

"Far from it," they reply, sighing. "It's just plain ridiculous for him to be so worked up about this now. He had his time ages ago." They rock their fingers against the table's surface and frown, looking deep in thought. "What did he say, anyway? ...I tried not to look, but I still saw when he got all angry at you."

"It's related to what I want to talk to you about. Though I'm not sure how he got that info so fast."

Their eyes spark and widen, the hand on the table clenching the edge in expectancy. "So he already knows all about it?"

"Dunno if all, but it looks like he's already dug a lil' bit into my past."

A buzz from the human's phone brings a halt to the conversation. He looks to where the sound comes from before taking a look at their expression, clearly vexed by the name of the sender. Their hand trembles and he notices how they have to tighten their grip on the device to prevent its fall.

"Jerry?" he asks.

They nod. "Excuse me for a moment."

Sans nods back and observes as they stand up from their seat and walk off to a corner of the diner. The switch in the human's expression is almost immediate, changing from curiosity to shock the second they click on the message. The phone meets the floor and ends up making a noise far too loud for it to come out unscathed, results of a tiled floor and the device landing screen-first against it. Still, they don't seem to care over that particular matter and stare at the floor with those same, wide eyes, a look that's carried back to him. 

"You…" 

Their words come off in a hoarse whisper, and they have to scratch their throat to continue with, "Is this true? Y- You gave Frisk a death threat as a warning for… for _what,_ exactly?" Their voice's louder now, surroundings seeming to blur into nothing given how little they care over being heard by those closer around. "They didn't hurt you, so why did you threaten to hurt _them?"_ Their shocked expression changes to anger, a deep glare that refuses to falter even as they take a step closer, ignoring the phone laying on the floor. "And what did he mean when he said your job was to kill humans? What…. What did Asgore order you to do, and how come you're still allowed to run freely -- as you please? How much of this is true, and how much of this isn't?

They take a pause to pick up their phone, another buzz being heard from it. The screen's cracked from end to end, yet they don't seem to mind over that either and tear up when they read the latest message. "Is… Is that why Toriel had to leave out of the blue? Was she expecting something like this to happen to her, too?" The human's voice breaks, though they recover with another scratch of their throat. "Did she also hurt Frisk? How… How am I supposed to even be anywhere near you when you used to be a heartless man who followed ordered regardless of-"

"Please, ca-"

"Don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down."

They huff, regaining some of their composure through it. "You have the next few minutes to explain why the hell your job as a sentry involved killing people regardless of their actions."

"(L/N), please liste-"

"Tell me."

They cross their arms and keep their glare on him. The phone continues to buzz, but they ignore it, all of their attention now being focused on Sans. An excruciatingly long beat of silence passes before he finally relents with a huff. They sit down, and he sits across from them, gaze facing theirs again. "What specifically do ya wanna know about?"

"What your job as a sentry implied. The rest can wait depending on what terms we're left with after this."

"Alright." He tries to smile in hopes of making their anger soften, though it's a vain attempt; a bad one, more specifically, taking into account how much angrier they get. "But could you promise ya won't freak out?"

"I'm afraid I can't. It all depends, really. Being told you used to throw death threats at innocent people doesn't exactly make me trust you any more than what I did a few seconds ago."

"But-"

"Order 44!"

He lets out a breath and proceeds to stand up. "Talk to you inna second? We can go to the food court and find a place there to eat."

"...Sure," they reply, a smile finally managing to return. "And thanks for helping me back there. I don't think I'd be able to tolerate Jerry coming up to me _now_ of all times."

"Anytime," he says, winking. It's then that he realizes what he's done, an action made purely out of custom, though thankfully, they only show shock at having their thanks accepted rather than shrugged off.

Hopefully, his conversation with them wouldn't turn out as bad as he anticipated it to.

* * *

The time to confess over his own sins arrives when both the human and himself are finished eating. Only his drink's left resting on the table, theirs already long gone with how quick they downed it after the meal. Had their choice been alcohol, he would've imagined them tipsy, given they barely gave themselves much time to consume it or so much as enjoy its taste and temperature. (Y/N) begins by asking how much of what Jerry had texted was true and over what actions the skeleton took when meeting with Frisk at the Underground.

The first few questions are simple enough and pass as smooth as his choice of drink, up until they ask, "So what exactly are you guilty of? Frisk told me to be careful around you, but in a fun sort of sense. And… And not because of you being dangerous or ever causing them any harm."

He breathes in, feeling obliged to brace himself for what he's about to say.

"I'm… guilty of not helping them out as much as I should've," Sans says, setting his drink aside. He already feels a tightness in his chest, incrementing when he continues with, "And there was one point where I might've come off too strong… Where I quite frankly told them to watch their back around me, and that I'd be there to handle the situation if it ever got outta hand."

"What kind of situation?" (Y/N) asks, a change in tone already present.

"Hurting my kind." He sighs out a deep breath, letting himself find some sort of ease amongst the ache building up in his rib cage. It was too soon to be enemies with the human sitting across from him, and to be frank, he didn't even want to be on negative terms with them, either. He simply wanted to have another friend; another person he could look forward to spending his time with more often. "I... warned them about what would happen if they dared to do anything bad to other people, but in the least humane wording possible." He takes another sip from his drink, feeling his non-existent throat turn sore. "Frankly, and just like Jerry already told you: it's all true. I, well... I threatened Frisk with death, even though they hadn't harmed anyone during their journey down there."

"So it's all true? Even the part about your job being to basically _hunt_ after humans, no matter what?" They stand up from their seat, hands slamming over the table on par with their shout. In contrast to the ire he anticipated from them, he sees the same shock from before in their eyes and an open mouth reveals their disbelief. "I… Y- You... You're not joking, aren't you?!"

Thankfully, they're both sitting at a table too far away for anyone around to take immediate notice of the human's reaction. That allows the monster to breathe out again and reply with, "It's the raw truth, cross my soul," he says, meeting with their eyes. "As a judge and main sentry for the Underground, I was meant to treat everyone equally, no matter their age, race, or any of that stuff. I judged based on actions; on the person's background and intentions. So when it was time for me to meet with a new person, I went all out, no matter the costs or repercussions of my actions, or the feelings I had about what I was about to do." Sans takes a long pause, needing some time to recollect himself. "To be brief, that was the job assigned to me, and one I was meant to fulfill no matter how that would affect my relationship with that new person I crossed paths with."

"Wh- _Why?"_ they blurt, the anger he expected finally showing through. Still, they sit down, avoiding unwanted attention from other people. "Why did Asgore come up with that idea, a- and why did you go along with it? Why… Was there no other option? Or did neither of you two ever bother searching for one?" A wet gaze greets him when he makes eye contact with the human again, conflicting with their scowl and sharp, furrowed gaze. "Are all of you guys like this? H- How many of you are innocent, and how many of you hurt my child? Are Toriel and MK the only ones I can trust? Because if I'm going to follow along with what Frisk's told me so far, th- the only monsters that they've mentioned without any reluctance have been those two. They... They always freeze up every time I ask them about any other monster they made friends with." Their voice begins to shake and a few tears spill from their eyes. "I… I'm sorry if this seems like too much, b- But I _need_ to know, Sans, I… I need to know who hurt them, and what I can do to protect them. I need to be strict, and I- I need to make up for those two months I wasn't able to be there for them."

_Sans._

The human has been calling him _'mister Serif'_ for a good while now.

Out of all the possible ways and times they could've said his actual, first name, and it had to be during a moment of anger and confusion. He tries not to acknowledge just how bitter and dry his name had come out of their mouth and instead focuses on lending out a hand to them, both in a metaphorical and literal sense. He drags the chair a bit closer to them and hovers his body over the table standing between them, placing a hand on the human's shoulder and snapping them out of their spiral.

"(Y/N), please just... Just breathe, and calm down for a moment," he mutters, making them face his gaze, stern and sober. "This's why I wanna tell you everythin' bit by bit. There's a lot more to the story, and I know you wanna be a good parent for Frisk, so please, take a breath and hear me out. I won't ask you to forgive me, but for your time to listen to what I have to say, instead." He almost flinches when their hand touches the one he'd placed over their shoulder, though he combats that feeling by looking away for a quick moment to recollect his thoughts. "We have a whole history explaining why things worked at the Underground the way they did until recently," he continues. "And even though I know that doesn't mean all of our actions are justified, we still had our reasons, just as your kind -- your ancestors -- did for sealing us underground."

They let go of his hand, a subtle action that tells him it's time to let them go. He does just that and sits back down on his chair, taking another sip from the drink on his side of the table to combat the sour taste forming in his tongue. "I know I have absolutely no right in telling you to calm down anymore and that I shouldn't've even said it the first time. But I still want you to listen, so that you can help Frisk establish their new life with the other monsters at the Surface; with all the friends they made at the Underground, but also by knowing what some of those friends did and just who of us you can entrust their safety to." He offers his hand out to them, letting a smile ease out the grim aftertaste of his words. "So, whaddya say? Wanna hear me out? I promise to be honest with you, so long as you can promise to hear me and my kind out, and learn more 'bout our choices in the past."

"I…"

That's the only word he can hear from them as they stare at his hand, a wary glance being directed at it. "Could we hug it out again? I, well... still don't trust shaking your hand after what Frisk told me about you."

Though he hesitates for a second, he gives in with a grin and a nod. "Sure thing," he replies, chuckling. "C'mere, pal."

Sans stands up, and (Y/N) does the same. 

They lean down to his height and let their arms sneak around his back, pulling him in for a second hug in just one day; on his first day meeting the human in person and on his first week here at the Surface, to be more exact. That same gentleness from before reaches his soul, enveloping him with a strong sense of safety, serenity, and warmth, despite the circumstances of it all. It was of no doubt that the person hugging him cared greatly for Frisk's happiness, almost just as much as they did for Frisk's safety. That shows through how willing they were to listen to him, how quickly they regained composure, and how welcoming their hug is, almost as if they were offering him a second chance to hear him out -- and just by the feeling of that hug alone.

"Thanks for being patient with me," he mutters, still kept in the hug. "I promise I'll try to provide you with as much information as I can." He lets go and finally stares at them again. "That sounds good to ya? Or are ya bored of me already?"

Tension eases out as the human lets a laugh burst through. "Sounds good," they reply, smiling. "And don't worry. I… I'm not bored of you yet -- Far from it, actually."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this week!
> 
> I'm still trying to figure out a good publishing schedule, but updates will continue to be weekly on Saturdays as usual, with the exception of double updates. :-)


	7. Chapter Four | Nyeh Heh Heh! (Part 1 of 2)

With Sans being the first monster you’ve met, you figure it’s only natural to cross Papyrus off your list next. As strange as the first experience was and regardless of the slightly sour note you both ended on, you were becoming a bit more used to the sight of real-life monsters the more you bumped into them on your day-by-day. A week's passed, and you're still attempting to get Frisk to open up. And as impatient as you felt for wanting to know everything there was about monsters and the Underground already despite it being only seven days since the monsters arrived, you feel it’s more than necessary for you to know everything you humanly could for the happiness and well-being of your child; settling for any less wasn’t an option, as so wasn’t allowing yourself some slack from those responsibilities.

Having more trustworthy information at hand, your meeting with Papyrus arrives quicker than the one with his older brother, barely needing to take the same safety precautions as you did with Sans. You meet up at a different spot, one far, far away from where the previous shopping center was in hopes of lessening the chances of seeing your ex-husband again. Nearly bumping into him once and having him text you again after so long was more than enough, if not _too_ much entirely.

He sits with you at a different food court, one belonging to a smaller mall, located farther away from the big city. There's plenty less hustle and bustle compared to the former, and it's easier to find a quiet spot for you to talk with him. There's a lot more time to spare, too, the sheer product of not having to text Papyrus before meeting him and not needing to have your aunt drive you there for extra preparedness and additional safety precautions. With the knowledge of that extra time in mind, you're both able to grab a quick bite to eat first, just like you'd done with Sans, with the exception of the tension caused by seeing your ex and having him reveal information about the monster beforehand.

Long story short, there's no reason for you to feel nervous, so when you start to grow queasy and sense stress already creeping on your shoulders, you brush it all off and tell yourself you're doing better than last time.

You're meeting up with Sans's brother, a man a few years younger and much taller than you. His gaze is far more cheery and inviting compared to Sans's, and while he seems far easier to talk to when compared to him, you still can't help the stress continuing to pile up on you. There's no reason for you to feel like this, yet you can't bring yourself to do the opposite.

“Are you alright?” Papyrus asks, concern tracing his words. He almost seems to read your mind, though you don't acknowledge his attentiveness; rather, you look up, smile at him, and attempt to focus more on the present in hopes of lessening his worries on you. “You’ve been spacing out for a while now.”

You force all other thoughts away and concentrate some more, already feeling as if you’re being far too rude with a stranger, regardless if he was being nice and patient about it or not. “I’m alright, thank you,” you reply, followed with a nod and a smile. “There’s... just a lot of questions I want to ask, and… And I just can’t seem to decide on my first one.”

He almost beams at your honesty and scoots his chair closer to the table, déjà vu striking as you remember your last words and actions shared with his elder brother. “What if I asked you one first? You can loosen up that way!”

“Sounds good.” Your smile manages to show some more and you find it hard not to be influenced by his friendly demeanor. If he'd acted this way with Frisk at the Underground, you were curious to know what they both thought of each other. "Ask away." You face him as you say that, more than eager to get somewhere already. 

He nods and takes some time of his own to consider what question to ask of you. His deep analysis over such a simple thing shows in how long he contemplates what he wants to say and in the distant expression on his face, showing his mind's somewhere else. "What are your hobbies?"

Such a mundane question catches you off guard. Already braced for something deep and personal, you release your tension through a quiet breath and think that question over a few times. "Well, I…" 

You trail off when you realize you've pretty much lost sight of yourself since those two months of Frisk going missing. You were quite frankly friendless, and you'd no other hobbies left besides that of watching the late night news every other week day. Memories of your life before that time are difficult to retrieve, so you say the first thing on your mind. "Cooking, maybe? ...And reading, I guess." You give a shy smile and rub the back of your neck, an absent-minded action fueled by having nothing else to say for such a simple and easy question as that one. "To be honest, well… Cooking is something I do mainly for Frisk's sake, but I guess I _do_ enjoy it when it's for that reason -- Not so much when it's for myself." Your newest schedule makes way into your thoughts, reminding you of how busy life would soon be, having to meet up with every monster Frisk knew and having to research on who they were and how they treated your child, all in order to determine how you could allow these to be a part of their life and how you could then welcome them into your home. "I'm due for a change, but I _do_ want to find a new hobby soon -- or take back an old one, at least." 

You stop at the feeling of talking too much for far too long. Already worried over the matter, you shift and look up at the skeleton, only to see he's still carrying the same, friendly expression from before. "But what about you? Your brother told me you liked cooking, too."

Proud of your topic change, you smile and wait for him, who replies with, "I do!" He then nods and meets with your eyes; his gaze takes a more serious look to it. "But that's not what we're here for today, are we?" His tone is just as serious, though there's still his trademark optimism present in each word he says. "I understand you must be worried over Frisk's well-being. And though... Sans kept what happened this past week private, I understand you both had a conversation about that already, am I correct?" His smile returns and his recent concern shows through a subtle furrow in his visage. "I don't usually like to bring this up, but…" He sighs. "As his younger brother, I notice how much he cares for me and how much he tries to encourage me. There are... times when I notice my cooking does not exactly sit well in his taste buds... nor his digestive system, for that matter, yet he still tries to make me feel good about what I do and who I'm becoming."

He stops to let out a sigh, and a few tears manage to leak from his eye sockets. 

"Frisk, Undyne, and lots of other people act the same way with me, but it feels different with Sans -- his worry is without a doubt that of family, rather than those of friends like Undyne and Frisk. So here comes my point…" He sniffles and folds his hands over the table, these trembling despite his attempts at masking it through his usual cheer. A few tears plop on the surface, though he manages to push through with, "I believe the bond between you and Frisk is similar, if not stronger, and that's why you're here. You… You're worried we're not who we seem, and that whatever harm we caused to your child we can cause here again." He takes a pause, using it to breathe in and later out. "I... I assume that's what you called me here for, correct? You're concerned over Frisk's safety, now that they've made new friends, and you're even more worried over just who those new friends of them are."

You can't do anything else besides stare at him for a good while, mind becoming lost due to how much he's said in so short of a time. In the midst of it all, you take out a tissue from your belongings, offer it over to the monster, and smile back at him when he directs the same expression at you. "Thank you," he says, wiping the few remaining tears away. "I'll more than happily answer any questions you may have for me, but even then there will still be some things I won't be able to answer." He crumples the tissue up into a ball and sets it down on his plate, only a few crumbs from his meal remaining on it. "As much as I'd like to say I changed after Frisk showed me Mercy and taught me over how we could be friends, I still pulled them into battle -- I still hurt them, initially. It was my job to capture humans, and... Well…" His gaze averts from yours, similar to that of someone being caught in a bad deed. "My brother's job was, to quote: 'take care of them'."

You face away when he looks back to you, almost reversing your roles. The reminder of how grim the relationship between humans and monsters used to be and how it still was makes whatever food you ate make a comeback in your stomach, already churning. Bile forms at your throat, and you swallow hard, stress bringing forth waves of dizziness and nausea.

  
  


"If I _did_ succeed in capturing a human, I would move up ranks under the Royal Guard," he continues, looking more worried the longer your symptoms stay present. "...And I'm ashamed to admit I held that status much more highly than I did over caring about humans, their innocence, and how they were still people like us, at one point. I was… I was much more naive back then. And I allowed for that naivety to hurt what was then a potential friend -- a friend who still ate the food I made despite it not tasting good, and a friend who... who forgave me in battle despite me hurting them."

You take your drink and finish what's left of it. Stress levels up to anxiety, and you can feel your heart beat too fast for it not to hurt. Regardless of nausea and in spite of how little you've talked, you still feel as if you need some sort of refresher with how dry your throat's become. "I-"

"That is why as much as I can talk about what good friends we became, how I treated them before that and how they felt and feel is all up to them. They should be the one to determine if I'm worthy of still staying by their side, and…"

Tears trickle down his face, a sight that compels you to drag your seat closer to the table, similar to how he'd done for you earlier ago. You pull out another tissue and hand it over, though he doesn't use it this time and instead hangs his head low, gaze casting a guilty look at the table below him. "Papyrus," you breathe those words out through a sigh, a saddened smile taking over. "I… I already know about that. But it's not the reason why I'm here." You place your hand over both of his, these still folded over the table, as if to bare himself to you. "Frisk already sees you as their friend -- there's no doubt about that. But…" Your gaze faces with his again, allowing you to carry on with, "I need to know what actions you took back there, so I can understand what was your relationship with them, and so I can judge the situation better." You let his hands go and rectify your posture, in search of confidence for the road still left to trek ahead. "Right now, I… I barely know much about how life was like down there, and how you received my child upon their fall."

The sounds of people walking and talking, of cutlery clicking, and of food cooking take up most of your senses, as so does having people around capable of overhearing the conversation. Both stimuli leave you a little more than overwhelmed and you have to take short breaths in and out to let yourself sink back into reality again. You're more than willing to flee from the conversation and head home by now, but you can't allow yourself any more weakness.

"Should we talk this through another day?" he intervenes, offering a bottled water out to you, appearing recently bought based on the receipt he stores away in his wallet and the way he goes back to his seat. "You seem faint." 

"It's fine," you say, taking the water. The cold nearly shocks you with how warm the rest of your body feels, and a few gulps are enough to bring some semblance of calm back into you. You then excuse yourself to retrieve an eyeglasses case from your satchel and set the rest of your belongings aside, from everyday items to the documents you were required to bring in to work today.

You used to wear glasses from how much you were required to read on your day-by-day, from endless field reports with fonts too tiny for you not to squint at them, to the tutoring and follow-ups you gave to Frisk for each lesson they took in school. "Excuse me for a moment." You settled for contacts not long before the days when Frisk went missing, and you stopped using them not long after with how much you teared up (and cried) on a daily basis. Now, you needed to go back to either one of those, but as luck turned out to be, eye contacts still wouldn't be one of them, presently.

You stand up and walk off to the nearest bathroom available for you, rushing inside to go wash your hands and remove your contacts. You then store them away and slip on the glasses, blinking a few times after to get used to the change. When you're done, it takes only one step for you to notice what Papyrus meant when he said you looked faint. All other surroundings besides that of the closest objects around you turn blurry and you're forced to stop and hold on to the nearest support available. You stay there for a while, grabbing onto the edge of the sink until you finally feel some sense of stability return to you. All the cumulative effects of little sleep, poor nutrition, and constant stress place your body on involuntary sleep mode, minus your consciousness.

It was only a week, but it felt too long.

You needed answers stat, not time to recover nor time to consider your own feelings on allowing monsters to continue being friends with Frisk. All the actions you were taking were for their sake only -- not for you, and certainly not for Jerry. Seeing your child healthy and happy were the two main goals you wanted to focus on; and maybe later on, you could live your own life without feeling that much guilt, sorrow, or remorse over your choices.

Deciding you can't go on like this, you pull out what little strength you have left in your system and exit the bathroom.

"(L/N)!"

Papyrus's voice sounds almost immediate as you leave the bathroom; the worry on his face appears much more noticeable compared to before. He approaches your side and offers you support by placing your hand over his shoulder, stabilizing your steps. "Sans told me you looked strange... But I did not think it was this grave!"

Oh, God.

You wore a bit of concealer to mask your weary state, yet he _still_ noticed?

An involuntary chuckle interrupts those thoughts, and you have to dismiss Papyrus's concern when he asks what's wrong. "It's nothing," you say, thanking him when he hands over your belongings back to you. He still keeps himself near, however, and even asks if you need help carrying what he's just given you. "It's just… Do I look _that_ strange to you?" You burst out another laugh when delving deeper into that thought. "And should I go see a doctor about it, seeing as two whole strangers who aren't even the same as me know I don't look the same as my pictures right now?" 

Despite the confused expression on his face, the monster smiles back, and he walks along with you out of the food court, ignoring the rest of your surroundings as you focus only on each other. "Even if we _are_ different physically, it would still take a completely uninterested person to not notice how different you seem from the pictures both the media and Frisk have shown me of you." His smile turns warmer, as so does the look on his eye sockets. "Sans did not say anything, as he values privacy and did not see you in the state I have just now. But he _did_ tell me he was worried you would collapse for a moment the day he told you about his past, and that he was surprised that you were still patient enough to listen to him regardless of all that!"

He stops for a second and pulls you along with him to a nearby wall, allowing others to keep on walking while he retrieves something from his pocket.

"And that reminds me," he says, offering you a letter envelope, thick and with a bunny sticker keeping it closed. "He told me your phone screen broke during your outing with him, so here you are!"

Not wanting to leave the skeleton's arm extended, you take the envelope and stare up at him with teary eyes, against letting them blink too much until they dry. 

How were you supposed to act firm, if stuff like this made you weak?

How could you judge your enemy without any bias, if acts like these were still present?

And if you did so with the monsters, were you then being hypocritical by not allowing Jerry to see Frisk after his own set of mistakes were made?

And what about _you?_

You were meant to keep Frisk well under your care, yet they still felt unhappy enough at one point to consider and even go as far as to away from everyone, including you.

What did that make you in their eyes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I've planned out the update schedule, here's how it'll go:
> 
> 1 update a week (weekly) - Saturdays
> 
> 2 updates a week/2 part long chapters - Mondays and Wednesdays!!
> 
> 3 updates a week/3 part long chapters - Mondays, Wednesdays, AND Saturdays!!!
> 
> Keep in mind Fairytale Complex is a rewrite of TraInt (more on that later for new readers), so I already have 2 story arcs completely written out (...more on that later, as well)!
> 
> With that being said, take care and stay safe out there, everyone. :-)


	8. Chapter Four | Nyeh Heh Heh! (Part 2 of 2)

There's a time and place for everything, but not now.

You remind yourself of that and quite bluntly suck it up. 

All weaknesses are forced back down and corked shut, establishing a path for you to finish what you started. You went all the way out of the city just to meet up with Papyrus, and you were here to bring some sort of closure as to how you could approach him after concluding with your first meeting. Still, that's no excuse for you to be rude or break any of your hospitality rules, so you smile at the skeleton and thank him for the letter, it's contents you assume’s money judging by how thick and heavy the envelope is.

"This means a lot, but… Are you sure it's okay for me to accept this?"

"Of course it is! Alphys would be glad to fix your phone and even upgrade it for you!"

Now _that_ makes more sense.

But that still doesn't explain why it's _that_ thick and heavy. Whatever contents there are inside it remain a mystery as you wonder how that's possible and why it's even necessary to carry in an envelope what you assume is simply Alphys's contact information. Nonetheless, you store it away with the rest of your belongings and continue on walking until you make it out of the mall.

"I apologize for not, well… doing what we were meant to do today, but thank you for understanding," you say, keeping up with his pace.

"Of course. Communication is key, (miss/mister)!" He smiles back at you and slows down to a full halt when you both make it to the bus stop. "We can discuss all these matters later on, but wouldn't it be better for you to get a check up with your doctor first?" He almost seems to realize something’s off with his question and adds, "Not that your appearance is unpleasant, but that you simply do not look as healthy as the pictures Frisk showed me of you! You look... rather fatigued, if I’m to be honest."

"I'll…" You trail off when you notice you're beginning to compare both Papyrus and his brother's actions with Jerry's.

Jerry didn't notice how different you looked back at your meeting with Sans; rather, he only noticed you were with someone new, and nothing else.

He didn't demonstrate the same level of insight as Sans did.

And he didn't show as much concern as Papyrus did, either.

Jerry didn't-

"I'll keep that in mind." You shove all that aside and step inside the bus, Papyrus following after you. It's jam packed, so you're led to hold onto the nearest hand railing before it takes off.

While you wait for an opening to continue talking with him, more thoughts return to your mind, these about last week and how Jerry wouldn’t stop texting you information about the monsters no matter how much you ignored it all. The only messages you’d opened were the ones about who Sans was, and -- considering in what state that left both you and your phone screen in -- you’ve now established it upon yourself to not look at any other message Jerry's sent. If he wanted to warn you and Frisk about anything else, then he had to gather the wits to apologize for ditching his child for so long and actually reveal some sort of positive change in him.

Hell. When was the last time you saw him -- last December, maybe?

You let all those frustrations out through a huff and loosen your grip on the railing when you notice you've become too carried away with your thoughts. There's no reason for you to be thinking about him anymore. You were over Jerry’s bull crap a long, _long_ time ago, and having him text you again after almost a whole year of complete and utter silence from his part couldn't possibly be enough for you to begin thinking about him again.

"I forgot to mention there's another thing from Sans inside that envelope," Papyrus says, serving as a necessary distraction from your overthinking mind. "He thinks it's useful for what you will be dealing with soon, now that you've made it your goal to learn more about Frisk's monster friends." The doors hiss as the first stop arrives. People begin to stand up and exit, leaving a few seats empty for both you and your companion, as well as those who were also left to stand and hold on. “How was your meeting with him, by the way?” 

“It was fine,” you reply, assessing his question and the change of tone that goes along with it. His once amiable tone changes for curiosity, almost as if he’d no prior knowledge of how your meeting with his brother went despite having proven the contrary back at the food court. It's sudden but subtle, though as much as you try to understand what it's caused by, you come out short of possibilities. “And he was nice. I wanted to pay for at least my part of the lunch we had, but he covered for it… And now you did the same today, too.” You chuckle at that thought and look up at the monster with a smile. “You’re both just as hospitable, I’d say.”

He sighs, a sound marked by relief. His face shows that same emotion based on how his gaze loosens up and how contentment returns to his expression, once clouded by that earlier one caught with his change in tone, still unknown to you. “It is not my intent to persuade you into anything, but… I was hoping you would both get along better. At first, it was for how worried I was that he would not adjust well to the Surface, but it looks like you could both benefit off getting along with each other!”

It becomes clearer now as to what his intentions are.

He was worried as any caring sibling would be for the other sibling’s well-being. It made sense despite how outgoing both skeletons appeared to be. The elder one looked to be the type to keep to himself more based on the sole, first impression you had of him. He knew when and where to joke around, he knew how to strike up a conversation, and he was thoughtful to a noticeable extent, but all that still didn’t cover up how he approached certain topics with you, even if he was still barely acquainted to you. Even if he was honest and even if he’d been earnest enough to confess his faults to you right on your first meeting, there remained something about him that told he was still keeping certain feelings to himself, such as that of a different weakness found beyond his mistakes. Papyrus showed that quality plenty both in subtle and blatant ways, such as when he admitted when he felt that he’d failed his friendship with Frisk and how he cried when talking with you earlier ago. Sans, on the other hand, didn’t quite reveal having any emotional bond in him when talking about how he’d failed his promise and Frisk in the process. Not that it meant that he didn’t feel any repentance over his actions, but that he simply seemed to take his job as a judge for the Underground into his real-life relationships -- using that mindset even outside the Judgment Hall. 

But, of course, you hardly knew him, so that could just be you overthinking the weight and significance of the situation and misinterpreting what could be a hint of introversion in the monster when compared with his younger brother.

Over-analysis aside, you consider yet another perspective regarding what Papyrus meant when he said he hoped for you and Sans to get along.

Was it really possible he meant that as simply friendship?

Or was he throwing subtle remarks about a possible set up?

“Do you…” A mild sense of guilt overcomes you at the mere consideration of that possibility, though it doesn’t stop your stressed mind from doing what it wants. “As friends, you mean?”

Notwithstanding his seemingly innocent character, Papyrus’s gaze widens and he looks away for a split second, cheekbones burning red. “Yes,” he replies, followed by, “I apologize if that made you think a different way. I just want him to have new friends and open up some more! Though now that you mention it, he..." He trails off and frowns. "He is a bit different from most of our friends. He is almost the same age as Undyne and Alphys, and yet he still hasn’t dated anyone to this day! That, and he always rejects the advances he gets from a few people he knows from Grillby’s bar.”

“Maybe he’s aromantic or something similar?” you suggest, quirking a brow and smiling at the sight of Papyrus's flustered state. “That’s normal, if so. It could just mean he’s not interested in a romantic relationship and stuff like that.”

“But I’m still worried about him -- He’s just like this for making new friends, too! And he’s been acting strange since the Barrier broke.”

Your smile grows the further Papyrus talks, and it’s almost a challenge for you not to burst out a laugh; not in a mocking sort of sense, but for the sheer worry he expresses both through his words and body language. It’s almost as if your personalities have switched, making it now his turn to show his own set of stresses, but in a far more composed way compared to your previously anxious state. He sighs and places a hand over his forehead, expressing his troubled thoughts yet again through the rub of his temples. “If anything, I hope it’s that… And that he’s not keeping stuff to himself!” He looks at you with a small smile and adds, “Could you…” He hesitates, though he recovers with a breath in and a harrumph. “Could you ask him about that one day? I do not know much about these topics myself, but… In the meantime, I was hoping if…”

He trails off for a second time.

At that chance, you intervene, saying, “Sure.” You let out a laugh, a simple sound that seems to be sufficient for the skeleton to relax again. “You both paid for lunch, and you’re here with me after I said I needed to talk with you about the whole situation at the Underground, so…” You take a pause as your smile grows. “It’s only fair I try to pay some of that forward, don’t you think? I’m sure I can find a way to ask him without being blunt about it.”

Tears return to Papyrus’s eye sockets as sudden as thunder on a clear, sunny day. At that sight, you offer him a hug, one he accepts just as quickly. His arms squeeze you tight, similar to that of a child hugging their favourite stuffed animal after a fright, and he nearly sobs into your shoulder afterwards, the emergence of that action incrementing his grip on you. “You are too kind, (miss/mister)!” he exclaims, capturing the attention of the few passengers still remaining in the train. “I will make sure the rest of us you have left to meet are just as cooperative with you!”

You release a quiet gasp, in needful search for air when he lets you go, and chuckle when you see his gaze is as hopeful as someone with a lottery ticket. Were you both not sitting and still waiting for your stop, you would imagine he would’ve hugged you for longer or further showed his gratitude through a bow. “It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little weak right now, but as soon as I go visit the doctor and get things cleared out, just say the word and I’ll do what I can to help you guys get settled up here.”

Papyrus sniffles into the third tissue you’ve offered him today and trembles after recovering. He then looks at you with a clearer gaze and a fonder smile, both of these enhanced by the late afternoon sunlight beginning to shine through the train’s large windows. “E- Even if you… consider some of us as enemies by the end of it?”

“It would all depend on how it goes, but…” You rub the back of your neck and allow a pensive frown to take over for a moment. “Based on what I know so far, I doubt I won’t be able to help out. Even if some of you hurt Frisk, I... I still have to acknowledge how much you offered and did for them after you learned they weren’t an enemy.”

His hopeful gaze almost drives into a pitfall and a trace of guilt flickers on his visage.

All other surroundings and people present besides the chair you sit on, his presence, and yourself shift to a sudden blur as you can only concentrate on that change, too abrupt for your liking.

“About that…” he speaks up, hesitating. “There’s something I believe neither Frisk nor any of us have told you about, and that is-”

Your destined stop finally arrives, interrupting whatever closely-hidden confession the skeleton was about to direct at you.


	9. Chapter Five | Snowy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an early update this week to make up for last week's missed update (due to finals). 
> 
> As a result, expect the usual update on Saturday, as well!

"...So, did you go to the doctor?"

"Yes, dear."

"And what did she say?"

"It's possible I have anemia or something because of malnutrition."

"What's anemia?"

"That just means I don't have enough blood to stay active and do things as I usually do."

"And why did that happen? You've always made us eat healthy!"

"Frisk, honey…" You sigh and place a hand over your forehead, massaging the ache away. "I get that you're worried, but I need a moment to concentrate. The food'll burn if I keep getting distracted."

"Let me help you, then!"

"Not today. You should do your homework now so I can check it later."

"Why? I can help you if you're busy. And Toriel can help me with that later anyway!"

Needing patience, you stop your work on the stew and let out another breath, longer yet quieter this time. Then, you take a sip of water and set the cup aside to wash for later. "You're not going to see any more of your monster friends until I can at least get to know some of them better." You turn off the stove and let the stew rest while you do the same. "Toriel's an exception, yes. But that doesn't mean I'll allow you to visit her place if people like Sans are going to be there, too."

"But he helps me with science!"

"I'll take care of that, then."

"But you're busy!"

"I can make time."

"But isn't it okay if Toriel's gonna be there with him?"

"If it was, I wouldn't be telling you about this in the first place."

Frisk huffs and pouts, arms crossing as they look away from you. "It's not like he's a ticking time bomb anyway. He… He's not gonna hurt me!"

"How can you be so sure? Your _(dad/other dad)_ left us out of the blue."

"I don't care about him, and he's not my dad anymore! Y- You shouldn't call him that, and you should stop comparing other people with him!"

"Don't talk like that. You know that's not-"

"It's true!" Their words almost come off in a shriek and tears stain their face. "He- He doesn't care about me anymore, so I won't care about him, either. It's his fault why you had to go to the doctor in the first place!" 

You stay quiet and watch as they blink through the tears, sniffling some of them back. Sensing they need a break from your gaze, you turn back to the stove and focus on continuing with the meal.

"I… I was okay with it the first week, but when I noticed how much better we've been doing just with Toriel alone, I- I got really, _really_ mad at him! He doesn't care about us anymore, and he left us even _before_ I ran away. If he wants to show he cares, then… Then he has to do something else besides sending you dumb What'sUp messages all the time."

You stop what you're doing again and catch the salt shaker just as it's about to fall into the pot, stew still resting and waiting for you to finish with flavouring it. Thankfully, the safety lock keeps it from making a mess, so you place it back where it was and thank the Heavens you don't have to salvage the food from being oversalted. When you recover, you stop looking at the pot to meet with Frisk's eyes, directing your widened ones at them.

"How do you know that?"

"It's obvious! Your face always gets all scrunched up and grumpy, and the ringtone's different to all the others."

"And what if it's someone else?'

"You don't text anyone else besides auntie and Sans sometimes!"

Their words hit you like a punch to the gut. 

Having your social life summarized so quickly almost makes you wince, and you feel the urge to ground them simply for those words alone, rather than for their earlier conduct regarding how they talked about Jerry. "I'm afraid I'll have to take your own phone away if you keep doing this. I don't know how you even figured all that stuff out, but you know it's not good to sneak up on things like this. You should ask me if you're curious, dear. And... And not just take a look at those messages whenever I'm not around."

"I haven't snooped around! The messages would show they're read, but all the stuff Jerry's sent you's still unread."

You smile and choose not to mention on how they continue to corner themselves the longer they speak, though you _do_ acknowledge their awareness over small details, taking advantage of that by asking, "So that means you've read auntie and Sans's texts?"

They nod, unhesitating. "I know auntie's been telling you to get in touch with friends again. And you have a tour date with Sans this weekend!"

"Tour date where?"

"The Underground!" 

"And besides those two people, who's the last person I texted, and how long ago was it?"

Frisk stays quiet for a while this time, but it's made clear they're only seeking that information from their memory rather than realizing how far they've dug themselves into a hole. "Your coworker was last month, and one of your friends was two months ago." Their response is confident, although it doesn't take longer than a few seconds of silence between you for them to notice their mistakes. You don't say anything and stare at them with squinted eyes and an equally humoured grin, waiting. "Um…" They can only stare with wide eyes; their body stays still while their mind processes just what exact mistakes were made. "I…"

"Go shower and dress up, dear," you say, biting back your smile. "We'll eat first before we go, and we can talk on the way there."

"To Toriel's place?"

You nod. "It's about time I met her in person rather than calls. And frankly, it's been… really irresponsible of me to let you continue visiting her despite me not being aware of who she is in person. I only allowed it because Serif was there, but after learning about what he did, I _really_ don't want you near him."

"But you guys are going on a date this weekend!"

"If you're smart enough to know opening a message shows you've read it, then I'm sure you know that's not what that word means in that context."

"...What's context?"

"I won't keep playing your game, dear."

"But what if I really _don't_ know what it means?"

"Then you can find it in a dictionary, or you can ask your _tutors_ about it."

"You're being mean!"

"And you're being nosy."

Frisk frowns and crosses their arms. They attempt an angered expression, though it results in a faltering grimace as they try not to let their sadness known. Their lips stay pressed close together and their body shakes, all signs of them wanting to cry their feelings out. Still, they push through and regain some calm through a sigh. "I…" Their tone is just as reluctant as their posture, so you don't pressure and stay quiet. "I'm sorry, (mom/dad)." They let their arms loosen and stare up at you with stern eyes. "I was just worried about you. I… I didn't mean to look through your stuff. And I… I didn't mean to make you angry. I-"

"I'm not angry." You place a hand over their head and smile, tickling the back of their ear and gaining a smile back from them. "But what you did really _wasn't_ right." You pause and take a breath, already weak and dizzied despite it still being one in the afternoon. "And even though there're times where you have to go against the rules, this isn't one of them. You could've gotten into trouble if it was a stranger or someone else, or you could've learned something the wrong way. If you need to know something, you should ask me directly, not just play spy about it. I won't know what's bothering you if you keep hiding it from me and getting your answers like this. Alright?"

Frisk responds with a hug rather than words. Their hold is tight, and they nearly cling onto you, face pressing against your torso as they cry against it. "I'm sorry," they whisper through their sniffles and hiccups, holding on tighter. "I- I… Could you tell me what's making you sad next time, then?"

"Of course, honey." You place a hand against the back of their head and brush your fingers through their hair. "...I should've done that sooner, too." You smile when they let go and meet with their eyes, these red and watery from the recent cry. "Your hair's getting longer," you add, ruffling it up. "Do you wanna cut it, or do you like it this way?"

"I like it this way!" Their words are as bright as their smile, and another look at them reveals a weight's been lifted off their shoulders. "Should I go do my homework now? I wanna stay with you today."

"Sure," you reply, letting your smile grow. "Do what you already know. I'll be there in a few to help you out."

"Thanks, (mom/dad)!"

With that, they stand on their tiptoes and kiss your cheek. Then, they run off to their room, leaving you to finish with the stew.

* * *

Frisk's return equals to having a cramped calendar, where every single day's marked down with a sticker and a note to remind you over what you have to do.

Still, it doesn't erase the fact you need time for yourself, so you take up Frisk's concern over your health and happiness as advice for you to take better care of yourself. You start by stretching after an hour long nap, drinking some water, and opening up the envelope the two skeleton brothers had given you. Anticipation arrives with the reminder of what Papyrus hinted at about its contents. You tear it open, pull out the first thing you touch, and continue doing so until there's nothing left to take out and place on your nightstand. You then look at all the items laid out and notice that -- besides the business card Papyrus mentioned -- all other items are what he'd informed were from his brother.

Besides Alphys's contact information, there's...

What looks like a bunny-shaped notepad.

Two admission tickets.

A folded paper with some cards stuck to it.

And, as you feared, money.

If Papyrus mentioned only about Alphys's contact information being there, then it's a likelihood to assume the rest is from his older brother.

You take the notepad first and open it to see the first page has already been filled out, and it reads:

_"so, uh… hey."_

_"i'm not too good at writin' letters, but i thought this notepad would be useful now that you're gonna keep a contact list of all the monsters frisk made friends with. i took the liberty of puttin' in the first ten i could think of. start with those first, and don't push yourself too hard."_

The fourth and second to last item from the monster is what looks like an agreement letter and a pair of travel visas attached to it. You squint at the tiny lettering and adjust your glasses to begin with the reading.

_"With the approval of former Royal Sentry and Judge, Comic Sans Serif, I hereby allow for (miss/mister) (Y/N) (L/N) to traverse the Underground with him by their side. It is important to note these tickets will expire in three days after their initial use, and that another permit would need to be requested if the user so requires to visit the Underground again. I would also like to let known that it was not in my decision to have all these restrictions made, but it has been requested by the government that we restrict access to the Underground until they determine it is safe for humankind to visit. These visas have been given for the sole sake of having both of Frisk's parents well-informed over their child's journey, and said adults' safety should be provided by mister Serif. Any danger they face at the Underground shall be blamed on him for his inability to keep up with the requirements of this agreement, which include providing (miss/mister) (L/N) specifically with both protection and knowledge alike. A second permit has been provided in case that Frisk's other parent decides to accept the offer, as well. – Asgore Dreemurr."_

Below all that is a note written with a soft shade of pencil graphite, allowing you to erase it after reading.

_"take care, pal."_

Ignoring the smile on your face, you proceed to the third item: two admission tickets for what's titled as _'A Spectacular Drama by Mettaton'._ Attached to one of them is a second sticky note along with a shorter memo written down on it. It makes sense as to why the agreement letter had a 'take care' on it, given it's the last item you'd pulled out besides the money. Had you checked them all in that order, that last memo would've been a closing of sorts. 

_"there's gonna be a big show in two months. dunno if you and your kid celebrate the holiday, but frisk seemed to like snowdin, so i figured they'd also like seeing a whole bunch of events related to that. it says 'drama' only, but that's just mettaton highlightin' what he finds the most important."_

_"tell me when the time comes if you're up for it. i can help you get to know the guy better before then."_

The money's the only thing left and the only one that leaves questions behind. You take the batch and count in hopes of finding some answers, though the longer you do that, the stranger it gets.

_20…_

_40…_

_60…_

_80…_

_100…_

That pattern repeats for two more times, making it three-hundred in total. 

Just as you wonder why you've been handed such a large amount, you have the urge to look at yourself in the coffee table's reflection to see you're not exactly looking any better than before.

Both him and his brother had noticed that. It's almost been two weeks, and yet you've still the same tired look to your face. Constant lost hours of sleep, excessive stress, and practicing a poor diet had left almost irreparable damage on your body and mind alike, enough for even non-human people to notice the change. 

All things considered though, how were you supposed to hate an enemy when they acted like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!
> 
> I know times are tougher than ever, but stay strong and remember to practice social distancing if you're making small get-togethers with family/those in your same household, apartment, or campus.
> 
> Take care, and stay safe. :-)
> 
> (Holiday special incoming soon enough!!)


	10. Chapter Six | Dogbass (Part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates might be delayed/advanced occasionally due to the holidays from here on, meaning the usual schedule should go back to normal by mid January!

"Here ya go."

"Thank you."

The consistent tremble of your hand complicates your ability to so much as open the can he's handed out to you. Regardless, you stay quiet and struggle with each attempt you make in opening it, though he offers to do that for you not long after your third try. You hand it over and take it back after it's open and after you've managed to calm yourself a little more through deep and silent breaths.

"We really shouldn't go today with the state you're in," Sans says, sitting next to you on the bench, although leaving enough space for a third person to sit right between you. Whether he's trying to keep distance due to your condition or the fact that you're still just acquaintances -- or both -- is unknown to you, but you're grateful for it. The space helps with your dizziness and the persistent feeling of having every little thing overwhelm you, from the heat of the sun to the loudness of the park and its crowds. "The tour's mostly walkin' for hours, so it's not the best idea if you're all dizzy and stuff." His irises fall on your drink as soon as you finish drinking it. "Need another one? There's also ice cream and donuts if you're up for it." 

"I'm fine." You smile and stand up to go throw the can away. Walking still feels like balancing yourself on an ever-thinning thread, but you have a little more coordination now, sufficient for you not to appear drunk, nor for you to cling onto a complete stranger like you had just a few moments ago when getting down from the bus. It's pathetic to think you had to use the monster for support while going down a few steps, when Frisk managed to travel all over the Underground all on their own and without your guidance. Still, you set those thoughts aside with the reminder that you're still weak and that your health's taken a toll large enough to last for a few more weeks before your full recovery. 

You sit back down with Sans and observe the dogs running around the park, some in groups with others of their kind, some playing fetch and tug-of-war with their owners, and some asking for belly rubs from strangers.

"About the envelope…" you say, trailing off mid-sentence.

"What about it?" Sans asks, looking at you again.

Reluctance causes a noticeable delay in what you want to say and an increase in the intensity of your symptoms, these dulled temporarily by the juice's high fructose and vitamin content. "What's… What's the money for, if it's not for fixing my phone?"

"For your health." His face nearly softens up as he says that, though it goes back to its usual, stoic self when he adds, "You must've taken a few days off just to deal with Frisk's situation, and you've hadda use your own sick days, too, so we all pitched in to help you with that."

"We?" You quirk a brow and frown as you think back on the envelope and all the notes you'd read. None of them hinted at the money being from any other person besides him, and it was the only item inside the envelope that didn't have an individual note attached to it. "Wasn't it all from you?"

The flicker of his irises already gives you the answer, surprise revealing itself with how his gaze widens. "Wasn't there a note stuck to it? It's supposed to be from Tori, Paps, and me."

Though knowing it's much more likely they all pitched in with one hundred each rather than it all being from him alone, you have no memory of any other notes, and even less one related to the money. Curiosity strikes, but you try not to jump to conclusions yet. "There wasn't any. Maybe... Maybe it got mixed up with the other notes?"

"The money was in a different envelope though. Did Paps give you just one letter only?"

"Yeah, but it had the notebook, permit, tickets, and all that."

"Then he must've done somethin' with it."

You both stay quiet as you contemplate the situation. 

So, long story short, his brother had taken both envelopes and smushed them into one. It makes sense thinking back on how the letter looked like it was about to burst, but the reason for him to do that and the missing note are two whole other anomalies you've left to find any answers for. It's possible the note could've simply fallen off while Papyrus passed all the items into one letter, but why would he even do that in the first place?

Those questions make rounds about your mind, until you remember the conversation you had with him on the train. Sans seems to realize something, too, and you both act in coordination to your epiphanies by looking away from each other in a subtle manner and scooting back to your side of the bench until reaching the edge, leaving even more space between you. The likelihood of his brother attempting to set you up is apparent, but neither of you acknowledge it to each other. If that hadn't been an innocent and honest mistake, then Papyrus really _was_ trying to push his brother into dating by making him appear a lot more well-off and giving than he seemed. 

"Uh, I-

"Maybe-"

Whatever forced and awkward conversation you're both about to initiate is interrupted by a large Samoyed, big, fluffy, and full of energy. He throws himself on the bench space left between you and leaves his stomach out in display, likely waiting for attention like all the other dogs running after unsuspecting strangers without any pets of their own. His tail wags faster than lightning, and he barks until you give him what he requests, even more when the monster next to you gives him head scratches to go with your belly rubs. The dog's face is pure bliss throughout, and the tense atmosphere fades the longer you pet him.

When you both stop, the dogs stays in that position for a while, body left limp from all the pets. The tense atmosphere returns in an instant, and even more so when you both attempt to boop his snout. That only results in you brushing your hand with the monster's while the dog left underneath licks at both of them, once more helping end the awkwardness of the situation.

"Should we go back now?" you ask, finally capable of pushing through the tension. The ice breaks further as Sans nods, and you both stand up, leaving the dog at the bench, owner left unknown. It's strange to think you're so close yet so far away from the Underground. If it weren't for the state of your physical health, you would've only needed to walk a few more steps, past the dog park and through the gates. 

A high-pitched woof from behind makes you turn around and expect a Chihuahua to come running at you full speed, though it turns out to be the same dog from before. He's back to his energetic state, complete with his tail wagging faster than before and his tongue now stuck out. He follows even as you walk backwards and stares with a tilted head and confused expression when you stop moving. Sans notices you've fallen behind by the time he's a few feet away and turns back around to assess the situation, first with confusion and then with a chuckle. 

"Think this one's a stray?" Sans asks. He then approaches the dog and gets down on one knee to pat him on the head, gaining a few satisfied barks from him. His irises focus on the dog's neck when he adds, "There's no collar on him." He looks up at you next. "Maybe we could do somethin' about it next time we come back 'ere?" 

"Sure," you reply, smiling. "Looks like he's already interested in us, anyway."

"That, or he just wants more pets." The skeleton stands up and signals for the dog to keep himself firm in place, complementing his actions by talking to him directly. "Stay." He takes a few steps back to test the dog, who responds by taking a few forward, following the monster now. "Stay," he repeats, to no avail. "(Y/N) needs to go back home and rest." Sans points with his irises towards you when he says your name, breaking formalities to communicate with the dog. "Alright?"

As if leaving the job of dog whisperer unnamed in the information he'd given you, Sans's words seem to have an immediate effect on the Samoyed, who gives one sharp bark once and nods. He then turns around and walks off, leaving you be. Even the monster looks caught off guard by the results, though he laughs it off while you smile. Your gaze and his own draw themselves to the dog continuing to make his way back to the park, until he reaches the bench you'd both sat on. "Didn't think that'd work."

He slips his hands in his pockets and resumes the walk with you towards the bus stop, mood thankfully much lighter between you even as you both reach your destination and wait with no other people around besides him nearby. His irises narrow as he looks up at you, focusing on your face. "You allergic to dogs?" he asks, grinning. "Your face's all puffy."

Checking yourself through your phone's camera is more than necessary to know what he means by that, and when you do, you bite down on your lip to keep yourself from bursting out a laugh. "...Y- Yeah," you mutter, words followed by a sheepish smile. "I forgot."

"You forgot you're allergic to dogs?"

"They're too cute for me to worry about that." Your defense is quick and unfaltering as you grin down at him. "And it's only a mild allergy anyway. It's cats I'm more allergic to, but even then I can't help myself when it comes to being around animals -- specially big and fluffy ones!"

"Can't argue with that," he says, chuckling. "You bring a compelling statement." He looks towards the bus when it arrives and continues with, "Wanna stop by a pharmacy before we go?"

"It's alright," you reply, shaking your head. "I think I have some medicine with me."

"In that satchel you're always carryin' around?"

"It's in case anything happens while I'm out with Frisk."

"Even when they're not around?"

"Yes. What if someone else needs it?"

He grins and walks with you to the bus. "You really _are_ a first-time (mom/dad), huh?" 

You settle down with him on the seats nearest to the door and place your bag over your lap to prevent occupying another seat. "...What makes you think that?"

"Tori and I go way back. Though we only saw each other in person just recently, we got to know each other long before that, and she told me all about how it was like, both with her biological son and her adoptive kid. She was just like you when she took care of the first fallen human. And even though she'd already had a son before that, she went back to first-time mom mode with the one she adopted, since she didn't really know how humans worked back then."

Though you're curious to know how they knew each other without seeing each other's faces, you imagine something similar to online friendships and pass it off as that for now. It'd be far too much to ask for any details on that, based on how wistful and melancholic his tone alone sounds. "So you're saying I'm worrying too much?" you ask, grounding your curiosity for the moment.

He nods. "But there's no problem with that so long as it ain't taken to extremes."

"Like overprotective and all that?"

"Yeah." He stands up when the bus fills itself to the brim, leaving a few people to stand and one person to sit down where he's just gotten up from. "I'd say you're fine, though."

"Oh, yeah?" you challenge, smile turning to a grin. "And what makes you say that?" 

"You've been willing to listen to me so far, and you're still wanting to understand us despite everythin' you know about us already. That's not really somethin' someone overprotective would do."

"Move over," a man says, interrupting your conversation with the monster. He stands right in the middle of Sans and you, and he directs a glare at you only, fueled by exasperation. Compared to the man Sans had given up his seat for, who'd been limping all the way with a bad leg to the hand-bars, he seems fine; tired, but able to stand firm even as the bus keeps moving on. "Being sick in the head's not a valid reason for you to take up a seat all for yourself."

_"Excuse_ me?" you ask, narrowing your gaze at him. "Care to elaborate on that, sir?"

"You're (L/N) aren't you?" he asks back, scoffing. "Gotta be _real_ screwed up to talk with a guy like him when your kid went missing and ended up in that same place _he_ lived in." His anger's unforgiving, and he hardly cares to register how much attention he's drawing to himself and you. "Why couldn't they tell you about it? Ever question yourself that? If monsters are so advanced enough to build a whole damn robot more human than any android I've seen up here, they could've given you a call or somethin' to tell you your kid's alive and well. Ever stopped to think about it? Or do you care _that_ little over your kid's well-being? Stop for a moment and think about why they didn't try to help your kid outta the Underground." He stops only to catch his breath and increase the intensity of his tone and words. "So _what_ if there was a magic spell keeping them trapped? And so _what_ if they couldn't do nothin' about it? I'd be damn happy if they'd at least try to tell me my kid was okay!"

You keep quiet as you contemplate his words. Even Sans seems struck by them, and simply one quick glance exchanged between you lets you know he's waiting for you to give your judgment on the situation. He doesn't intervene, though he keeps himself close enough to help out, most likely in case the situation were to escalate any further.

"I'm trying to listen to their side of the story before I make any accusations."

"And what does that help you with?" His grimace worsens and he takes a few steps closer, almost cornering you between him and your seat. "Are you dense, or do you _not_ notice how they're tryin' to soften you up by being nice? Bet you a guy like him wouldn't give a damn over a limping human if he knew they were the key to getting outta the Underground." He glares at the skeleton when he says that and turns back to you afterwards. "Don't you see how he looks at you? He's-"

The man's argument drowns out with the rest of the bus's noises, now filled with loud murmurs from the crowd and their unrelenting stares, all of them directed at you. You want to say something, but panic overwhelms all other feelings and any possible, rational thoughts. Your breaths turn ragged and scarce, and the world around you begins to spin. All other words you can decipher from your mind are thoughts on how you're failing as a person and as a parent, more specifically -- on how each and every step you take's one huge mistake and a piece of evidence to prove you're not good enough.

If your best isn't good enough, then what's there left to do?


	11. Chapter Six | Dogbass (Part 2 of 2 | His POV)

They stand up like an undead from their grave, almost stumbling to get back to their feet and taking up all the strength they have left to stare at the man with a somber gaze. One look at their face tells they're about to either blow up or faint, the latter Sans assumes more of them based on what he knew about them so far. He stays closer by as a result and tries not to intervene yet, finding himself watching by the sidelines as he always seemed to do even before his life here on the Surface.

"I'm aware I can't just trust these people easily, but that doesn't mean they aren't worthy of being heard." They take a breath far too shaky and followed by a pause far too lasting. "I… I may not be the best (mother/father) out there, but I do care. And I'll show that by making sure I'm aware of the monsters' actions while still allowing my child to keep being friends with them." The skeleton takes his gaze elsewhere when he notices a camera flash from nearby. The owners behind those devices, most recording and some taking snaps of the scene, are either snickering or left with their mouths agape as they continue to engrave the scene both in their phones and minds. "I'll accept whatever decision CPS makes in terms of Frisk's safety, but for now, I…" The human interrupts their own sentence when they stumble, cutting his idea of dealing with those nosy people short. "I…"

They take a slow step back, huff out an exhausted breath, and -- without missing a beat -- stumble again and fall back. The skeleton takes a leap and stands behind them, nulling their fall with his own body. The last words to leave them are incoherent mumbles, and their half-lidded eyes close shut as they press their face against his chest for support.

The man continues with his rant regardless, pricking some annoyance into Sans's mind as he attempts to tune out the noise and concentrate more on the human in his arms.

"Hey," he calls out, louder the second time when it goes unheard. "Can you stay quiet for a sec? They're sick."

"Oh, they're _sick_ alri-"

"He said _shut up."_

A familiar voice helps him deal with the man, though he doesn't care over who the person is right now. Instead, he drags the fainted human with him back to an empty seat and thanks another when she offers hers. As more people spread out, he's provided with more space to spread their body across the seats left out for them, taking up three in total. 

"(Y/N)?"

His call is responded to by another mumble, much weaker and quieter than the last. He sighs and takes their face with one hand, using the other to keep their body from falling off. "Can you open your eyes for me, please? I need you to look at me."

Sans reminds himself of their satchel and turns his gaze around to see the man he'd given up his seat to's thought the same way as him. He gives it to him and helps keep (Y/N) in place while he takes a look inside, retrieving a first aid kit from its contents. The monster whispers a blessing under his breath and turns back around, nodding for the man to step back to his seat while he returns to tending to the fainted human. "Thank you."

The man nods back and receives help from the earlier woman as he limps back to his seat. Hushed fighting noises can be heard between the man who started the fight and the man quelling it, though once more, the skeleton can care less about the owner of that voice as he tries to focus more on the situation at hand. "(Y/N)," he calls out, louder this time. "Do somethin' if you can still hear me."

Another quiet mumble leaves their mouth as they furrow their gaze, likely troubled by a pointed headache -- or what could be a migraine at this point. He stops crouching and kneels next to them instead, taking a few more items from their belongings after he's settled himself next to them. A soft but sudden swerve from the bus sends them too close to the edge, though he manages to gather some Karma from the earlier event, strong enough for him to create a barrier and keep them from following off the makeshift hospital bed. His hands are shaking, though he doesn't acknowledge it. Be it from the agreement's terms looming over him or the human in his hands far too weak for them to last another hour -- or a mixture of both -- he's not initially sure of, but another look at their scrunched up face and how their expression's furrow turns far more harsh and denoting of their ill state makes him dismiss the consequences of the agreement and concentrate more on the health of the human he was barely just getting to know well enough as a potential friend. 

He sits down on another of the few empty chairs left out for him and suspends his body over theirs, struggling to meet with their face due to the difference in height despite how little it is compared to most of the people he knew. The human was no taller than his brother, but even then they were still tall enough to make him out to be the shortest when compared with them. His hand reaches out for their face again, and he comes across a cold, cold temperature, sufficient for his soul to jolt in response to it. People around seem to notice what's going on -- be it for his expression or not he isn't paying attention to now though -- and tell the bus driver to hurry, heightening the possibility of a bumpier ride, but leveling out the risks of the human dying on the spot.

While the bus continues to move, the monster continues to find more ways for helping with the situation. He starts by performing CPR on them, but carries on with his original plan when the human doesn't respond to the treatment. He goes off to prepare some alcohol swabs by dousing a few cotton balls and pads with the substance and pressing one after another against their nose, until they manage to cough and open their eyes, even if just a little and even if they end up closing these again.

The monster breathes out a sigh as he realizes it's not lack of oxygen but rather weakness overall, weighing down on their body hard enough to make their breathing scarce and their body and mind equally unresponsive. A shiver crosses with his spine when he imagines the state they could've ended up in had Frisk gone missing for longer than they had. If almost two months of their absence had caused this much of a change in (Y/N)'s health, another one more could've likely been enough to end their life, be it accidentally or -- harder to think about -- _purposefully._

"Please, do somethin' again if you can still hear me," he says, setting those thoughts aside.

A hand reaches for his own when he says that, landing just the right amount of gentle for it to pass off as a winter breeze or a ghost's touch. 

It doesn't squeeze at his nor does it move from that spot, but that action alone of having their hand move that much helps him relax some more while he waits to arrive at a hospital.

* * *

"What's your relationship with (miss/mister) (L/N)?" the nurse asks.

"I'm an acquaintance," he replies, obtaining a cautious look from the man.

  
  


It's made clear that, with how quick he is to bring that question up hardly seconds after seeing the mentioned person be taken away for emergency care, he's eager to set things straight -- and fast.

The monster stretches when the nurse leaves, in dire need of that after carrying the human all the way from the bus stop to the hospital's entrance. The nurse, on the other hand, prepares all the necessary documents for their stay at the front desk, leaving him alone to observe the hospital's indoors from where he's told to wait at, from the white interior to the distinctive smell of sterility. Even the few people who'd helped the monster with the situation at the train stay close by, some sitting by the waiting room with him and others standing near the doorway, but without obstructing any other potential emergency or those going in and out. 

When the nurse returns with the papers, Sans takes out the agreement letter and shows it to him. He receives an almost immediate answer as to what the nurse thinks about his relationship with the patient just by the apologetic look on his face, directed at the letter as he reads through it. His face scrunches up, and he offers that look at the monster before giving the letter back to him. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait nearby while a family member or a partner gets here. Have you contacted anyone yet?"

"Yeah." He nods, hands slipping into his pockets as per custom, though now's more of a nervous tick rather than how it tended to be: relaxed and unbothered. "Their aunt should be here soon."

"How soon, sir?"

"Uh, like…" He checks his phone. "Like four hours. It'd take longer, but one of my friends is gonna pick up their kid later to help her get 'ere quicker."

The nurse crosses his arms, sighs, and gives a knowing yet heartfelt look at him. "What can you do to prove you're trustworthy, then? I need someone we can trust to test something on the patient." His eyes narrow as he scrutinizes the skeleton's face and overall attire. "You're a scientist, right?"

"Used to be."

"Good enough for the occasion. Could you come here with me for a second? There's something we think could help your friend out, but we need the approval of someone knowledgeable from the Underground -- someone who knows better about this kind of stuff than we do." He lets his arms go and eases his expression with a smile. "If you do that, you can check on the patient soon -- with a nurse's close supervision, of course."

Not really giving too much thought to the situation, Sans shrugs and agrees with an 'alright'. "What's your doubt?" he asks.

"I need to show it to you," the nurse replies. "It's about a strange substance discovered in some humans after they fall to the Underground."

Sans accompanies the man to his desk, who takes a small set of keys from his back pocket, unlocks the bottom drawer, and motions for him to stand close by. "It has a rather… _risky_ medical history, so we wanted to ask someone with more knowledge before doing anything too rash." From there, he takes out a thin but tall, unlabeled glass bottle and leaves an empty syringe behind. Just from the neon red colour of the substance and its viscosity, both qualities able to be seen thanks to the material it's contained in, Sans already has his answer: _no._

Determination was far from safe when injected on rather than when it naturally came to be. Even humans could feel the aftereffects of such a strong substance in their veins, and for most monsters, it was either lethal, fatal, or dangerous enough to deform them for life. He hesitates at the thought of it being used for malicious reasons, but eases up a bit when taking into account how the nurse is practically showing his discovery to him without any need for secrets or lies. He assumes that -- if the man were to have any bad intentions -- he wouldn't simply be flaunting the substance around or acting that nonchalant about its existence.

"It's not safe," is the first thing he says, words almost rushing from his teeth. "Injecting that to a human -- or anyone, actually -- is taking a huge risk. That substance should come naturally, and not by injecting it into the subject's body."

The nurse frowns, but relents. He sets the bottle back where it was, closes the drawer, and locks it back down. Then, he turns back to the monster and adds, "So considering those risks, you agree the treatment's off the question for this patient?"

"Definitely. It's better to do some more research before getting in on anythin', even if some of our past scientists _did_ experiment with that substance at the Underground."

Nodding, he steps aside from the desk and gestures for the skeleton to follow him off to the hallway, far from the entrance and the waiting rooms. As they both walk, the man stays quiet and appears lost in thought, though that changes when he stops meeting the floor during his daze and asks, "Could you at least give me more details on this substance later, then?"

Sans agrees with a quiet hum, not in uncertainty, but due to being lost in thought himself. "As long as it ain't used on anybody for testin', then sure. We can work on that."

The man stops walking and lights up with a smile. "Excellent!" he exclaims, almost beaming in response. "Follow me to the patient's room. I'll have another one of our nurses watch over you while I'm gone."

He smiles back, though a bit late due to the topic still occupying his mind. "Thank you."

* * *

The room's North Pole cold, bleak, and dimly lit, though the latter's fixed when the nurse meant to watch over him passes through the hallway. She turns a few more lights on and stands in front the open door, greeting him with a stern gaze. A notepad rests in her arms, written on to such an extent that there's more ink rather than paper.

In enters the woman, brown skinned and brunette compared to the pale and ginger haired man from earlier ago. Wrinkles can be seen on her face, revealing her to be older compared to the seemingly novice nurse who attended him before. A few grey hairs stick out this way and that, though her professionally tidy bun masks most of it away with a scrunchie. 

"Stay in that chair, sir, and don't get near the patient," she demands, staring down at him. "And please hand over the agreement letter. We require a copy of it to have proof of your acquaintanceship with the patient."

He does as told, both in terms of keeping his distance from (Y/N) and in giving her the letter. "Why the distance, though?" he asks. "Is it somethin' contagious?"

"No." Her forbidding look deepens and almost turns to a glare. "We simply do not want you touching the patient unless it is absolutely necessary."

It takes him a second to process the sentence, though he nods after that's done with. "I understand." He walks to where she points at, though stays standing as he continues to talk with her. "Could I know what's their condition, then? It... kinda looked like a panic attack, but then they also told me they didn't eat or sleep well for the past two months."

Appearing surprised for just a moment, the woman returns to her sedate expression as she checks her notepad again. "Well…" She huffs. "You're not too far off. Both of their symptoms combined and worsened each other out, which resulted in them becoming that weak." She then takes out a cellphone from her pocket and unlocks it, tapping on the screen a few times before having a sound play, likely from a recent, viral video based on what's spoken throughout it. "Would you care to look at this recording for a minute? One of the witnesses present during the incident caught you acting rather… _strangely_ with the patient." The nurse gives the phone over, though she hesitates when her hand brushes with his, an act of hesitation masked by a stern visage.

The first thing he sees when replaying the video is nothing out of the ordinary given the situation displayed: him giving CPR to someone in need of that treatment. It's not until he remembers how touchy such a subject can be considering the factors of who he is and his reputation on the Surface -- and even more so when taken out of context -- that he understands why she's made that comment. "I was giving 'em CPR. Be a bit weird if it'd be doing anythin' else considerin' the situation, don't ya think?" He looks up from the video of him placing pressure on their chest and giving them mouth-to-mouth (or at least, his technically was one, taking into account that thing he could do with his skull whenever he ate or drank something; it was a thing most of the comments on Phrasebook talked about rather than over what's happening to the human in need: the strange malleability of the monster's skull, with some others questioning over how he could even be performing CPR despite not having any lungs) as he tries to bring air back into their system, and holds back the urge to point out how obvious that situation is. "What's wrong with that?"

"Couldn't have someone else done it? There were plenty of people present."

"I'd say that's a bit of an insensitive question to ask after what they've been through."

"Answer my question, sir."

Sans sighs and hands the phone back to her. "It was a moment of high tension. I couldn't help what happened back there, and if I _did_ wait 'til someone else showed up, that would heighten the chances of me losing 'em before they could get 'ere."

"Maybe so, but that first treatment gave no results. They remained in a coma until you rubbed alcohol on their nose. If you knew that would work, then why did you not do that in the first place?"

"Same reason why I didn't wait 'til someone else came to give 'em CPR. It was a moment of rush n' panic."

"But you were still-"

"...Sans?"

For what has to be the first time since meeting the human, the monster feels relieved at hearing them call him by his casual name. It's a faint and strained attempt, revealing they've used all their strength just to call out for him. Never he would've imagined feeling so pleased at hearing a still-to-be friend's voice, nor does he allow himself to let his _other_ type of imagination run wild, one related to the warmth he feels in his soul when turning to their side and seeing them awake -- weak and confused, but still there.

"What happened?" they ask, frowning. "Are… Are you okay?"

He tries to approach them, though he soon receives a warning from the nurse not to. "I'm, uh… I'm alright," he says, replying from the distance of the chair he's been told to sit on. "Don't really think it's helpful to ask this, but… What about you?"

They chuckle and a smile keeps itself on their face. "Everything hurts, but I feel _way_ better than I did back at the bus."

He grins. "This's probably a wild guess, but has it gotta do with having no one screamin' at you?"

They nod and let their smile grow, albeit at the cost of triggering a sudden and visibly acute headache. "Definitely," they reply.

"And having nobody else gossipin' about it?"

"That, too." Their smile fades as they say that. "Could you... come over here for a moment?"

Sans spares a glance at the nurse, only to receive a quick nod in approval and a hint of a smile. Though left unsure as to what's caused such a sudden change in her temperament, he takes up the opportunity without protest and stands next to (Y/N), waiting for them. "What's up?" he asks.

The human makes an effort to stand up, but fails soon after. To make up for that, they reach out for his hand and squeeze it, smile making its comeback as they reply with, "Thank you." A pause follows as they let go of his hand, tucking theirs under the sheets. "You've acted far sweeter than that dog we met at the park today."

"Settin' some high standards here, huh?"

They let out a laugh. "It… hurts when I do this." So instead, they grin. "Never thought being happy would be so painful."

The skeleton grins back at them and quirks an iris, estranged by their feelings and their choice of words alike. "Even after what you've been through today?"

They nod. "Even after all that, I'm... I'm happy now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all have a decent New Year's Eve! This's the last update of this year, so here's to wishing 2021 is a little bit better for all of us. It's unrealistic to say things will be back to normal at the drop of a hat, but there's no harm in staying hopeful for a better future.
> 
> Take care, and stay safe! ❤️


	12. Chapter Seven | Dogsong (Part 1 of 2)

A strong and persistent, ticklish feeling on your nose wakes you up with a sneeze. 

Albeit, your face is far too puffy now for you to even see what's going on, not including the fact that you're not wearing either contacts or glasses presently -- and not that you even remember where your glasses ended up on after you passed out yesterday. It's all one big blur both in terms of your eyesight and your mind. The only few things you remember after waking up in a hospital bed was Sans at the very beginning of it all, along with your aunt arriving with some fresh clothes plus basic toiletries for you to use and change into after a shower. The rest of your memories are muddled to a point where you can't even remember where your belongings are, how long you've slept, or what hour it is.

The pressure you feel on your chest paired up with a few energetic woofs and a lick at your face let you know who's the product of your allergy. Thankfully though, the dog understands when you tell him you have to stand up. He barks again and jumps off of you, giving you freedom to move and try to feel around for your phone.

Doubt hits you when you find it, and you start to wonder if calling anyone's even necessary, keeping in mind that your emergency's mostly a puffy face and an itchy nose, coupled with blurry eyesight.

Surely, you could find your medicine just as you did with your phone, and worst case scenario, you could wait until a nurse or a doctor came around; your allergy wasn't _that_ bad, anyway.

You try to search for the medicine all on your own first, though it results in you having to question the very same root of your problem for help. "Could you help me find my bag?" you ask, facing down with a smile at where you assume the dog's at. How he got inside a hospital room's left unknown to you, but now's not the time to be worrying about that. "It should be around-"

Before you can even finish your sentence, the dog barks once and runs off, becoming an even fainter, white blur as he leaves your side. Soon enough though, he returns with what you assume are your belongings, based on the colour of the bag's material alone, its dark brown contrasting with his white fur. "Thank you," you say, taking the bag from his mouth. You then sit down in bed and rummage through your belongings until you find some allergy pills and a half-drunken, lukewarm, bottled water, plus the new bottle your aunt had brought you. Compared to the one you packed up for yesterday, it's still ice-cold to the touch, and it's twice the size as a regular one.

A yawn, a headache, and a painful stretch intervene with your mission, so you decide to wash up first before taking any medicine. Countless hours of sleep meant lethargy was just around the corner were you to be tempted to lay down again, so you stumble your way to the bathroom and freshen yourself up, a daily routine adjusted to go by quicker when you hear the door of your room open and the dog bark at the new visitor. Happy woofs inform you you're not in any sort of danger, though you could still use whatever company there's waiting for you with how long it feels since you've last had a talk with someone unrelated to how your health was doing and what happened back at the bus.

"Hey, bud. What're ya doing 'ere? You know (Y/N)'s allergic to you."

"Woof-woof!"

The exchange between the new voice and the dog are the first few words you can hear while you wrap things up, though the dog runs back to your side as soon as you open the door and return to your bed.

"Don't," the visitor warns, whistling for the dog to approach him and chuckling when he runs off to his side. "You're gonna get 'em hospitalized again if you keep doin' this."

The dog distracts himself with the visitor while you take your pills and down them with some water. All that's left is to find your glasses while your face recovers, though as much as you try searching for them or your other alternative, you can't find them among all the other items scattered inside. Most first aid items are felt tampered with, bringing forth the unwanted memory of what you'd been through yesterday and how you were still well under recovery.

"Good mornin', (L/N). Dunno how that doggo got here, but I'll make sure he doesn't break in again."

Another recognizable blur -- made up mostly of blue, black, and white smudges -- shows up in front of you and crouches to meet with your face. Weren't he so used to wearing such similar colours and casual outfits all the time, you would have a harder time distinguishing him beyond that of his low voice and New York accent. He scoots a bit closer and reaches out for your face, hands brushing with your ears as he slips on your glasses for you. It's as clear as day he's already regretting what he's done, judging by the way his gaze averts from yours when you're able to see clearly again.

"You alright? Your allergy's lookin' worse than yesterday's." While it's initially unclear as to why he hesitated after putting on your glasses for you, just one closer look through all the puffiness of your face lets you see a faint, microscopical hint of red on his cheekbones. "...Sorry 'bout touchin' you like that, by the way. Dunno what got into me, but, uh-"

"You mean you putting on my glasses for me?"

"Yeah -- That was _way_ outta hand of me. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

You take a second to think over what he means with that -- mind still processing everything as quickly as an old desk computer -- until you remember how his brother tried to set you both up a while back. 

If that was enough to get the one being set up all worked up around you even for the most trifling matters, you can't imagine how the monster's feeling now that he's taken such an intimate initiative with you, considering he could've simply offered you the glasses rather than slip them on for you. "That's okay." You snicker, dismissing his worry with a smile. "It's no big deal, really."

"Still, that was wrong of me." He smiles back at you, though that expression soon fades as he dwells deeper and longer into what's happened. "I did that without your knowledge, and we're not even friends yet. I took that, uh, incident back at the park too close to heart, so I'm not really sure what to do anymore or how close I should act with you." Sans takes a hand to the back of his neck, sighs, and rubs at it, inadvertently sitting next to you in bed as he contemplates the situation while facing the floor. "I need to tell Paps to stop settin' us up anymore in the future. Not only is it unfair for you with all the stuff you have goin' on. But well... I'm not too sure about what being in a relationship entails, either. I mean, seriously -- Being set up like this's really _not_ my thing. Maybe it's different for others, but I just can't date a person or go out with 'em unless I'm real close to 'em." His shoulders stiffen, and he looks up at you with widened irises and a meek grin. "God, I'm… I'm not even sure why I'm tellin' you all this, though. It's-"

Remembering Papyrus's request, you intervene with, "Can I kiss your cheek, uh… bone? Maybe you could sort out your feelings a bit more if you try it."

Seemingly at a loss for words, the skeleton nods as a response.

You move a bit closer to him and press a quick kiss on his cheekbone, keeping all other limbs aside to prevent touching him anywhere else. His face turns a bit hotter now, similar though not as noticeable as when humans blush, so you assume he's going through the same thing despite those subtle differences. He looks away when you move back, though he faces you again when you ask, "How did that feel?"

There's a long beat of silence between you, until he eventually breaks it with, "It felt nice."

"Like in a platonic sort of sense, or otherwise?"

"...I'm not sure."

You hum and lose yourself in your thoughts, motivated by the kiss and his reaction to it. His body language is either good enough to mask any further embarrassment; that, or he just really _didn't_ feel anything out of the ordinary when being kissed on the cheekbone. You try to think back on past experiences and remember how Jerry was a lot shyer than you when it came to being upfront and honest about your feelings with each other. Both your appearances deceived in that aspect, as your roles in twelve grade were like those of a high school movie clique: Jerry was a popular soccer athlete back then, while you were the quiet and lonesome nerd in charge of the library. You kissed him first though, and you were the first to admit your feelings for him after you discovered you liked both boys and girls alike.

"Well, how about this," you speak up, gaining his attention again. "Could you imagine yourself doing anything romantic with any of your past crushes, like kissing, hugging, or just… full-on making out?"

"Hard pass on the last one. Don't think I can imagine myself doing somethin' like that with someone -- unless I'm maybe really, _really_ close to 'em. Other than that, well… I guess I wouldn't mind doin' all that other stuff." 

"So if we both had a crush on each other, would you see yourself on a date with me? If you can't use me as an example, imagine someone else you're more comfortable with."

He looks away again. Still, he nods. "Just with none of that steamier stuff. I've heard some of my co-workers up here say they're all about this and that, and how often they do stuff like that with their partner, but I just can't really see myself in a situation like that one -- Or just… Not yet, at least."

"That's normal, then. Intimate stuff like that isn't for everyone." Your smile grows at the feeling that you're making progress with Papyrus's request. "Some are just fine with what you said, and others don't even have a need for romance in their lives. Just like marriage and children aren't for everyone, romance and sexual intimacy aren't, either."

"Thanks," he says, meeting your eyes with a less tense gaze of his own. "How did ya learn 'bout this kinda stuff, by the way? I think maybe Alphys and Undyne know a bit about this themselves, but, uh… I never had the guts to talk to 'em."

You grin. "So you ask a complete stranger about it?"

Thankfully, he knows you're joking and follows up to it by jabbing your side with his elbow. "You caught me in a vulnerable state."

"How so?" you ask, scooting closer on instinct.

"Things are different here at the Surface," he replies, suddenly wistful. "When you passed out yesterday, that reality hit me, and so I kinda just… _froze_ at the thought of losing you."

"How's it different down there? Does… Does that mean if I were there, I wouldn't die as easily as I would here?"

"Not exactly. There's just a different system down there, and it helps strong-willed humans have a second chance and more at life."

"But strong-willed could mean both good people and not, right? How would you deal with bad ones, if it came to it?"

"That's where the whole situation with your kid takes place. It's not that we wanted to hurt 'em, but that there were plenty of factors that made us view humans as a threat back then. It was them who taught us there's another way around it. But then again, I think those points you've made're important, and that you really shouldn't just forgive us outta-"

"Time's up, mister Serif. The patient has other people who want to see them."

Nearly disheartened by how time runs short, you end it on that and make a (metaphorically) telepathic note to continue with the conversation during your tour, something you both agree on with a nod. There would be plenty of time to talk about that there, though that's not to say you don't want to have all that information discussed right here and now. "I don't think I've said this before, so… Thank you for all your help. I'm not sure I'd even be here if you hadn't been there at the bus for me." You pause and smile. "Friendly hug?"

Sans chuckles and sits down again. "Friendly hug." He takes up your offer faster than the first two times since you first met him. It feels far more natural now, almost as if the previous two had been reciprocated to, but with that doubt still on his mind, weighing him down. "This's probably really damn weird, but you're kinda… comfortable to hug."

"Okay, yeah. That's _kinda_ weird." You laugh. "Comfortable as in soft or warm or-"

"Comfortable as in I could easily fall asleep on you if you keep huggin' me like this. But yeah -- That's probably the reason why."

"So you'd say you like cuddling, then?"

"Definitely better than all that other stuff."

"See that?" You let go of him and let your smile grow. "You're understanding yourself more already. That's good!"

"Is it? I thought I was too old for that."

"Oh, come on." You judge him. "You're a science wiz, aren't you? People all experience things differently and at different stages. You're being rude to yourself. Just give yourself a chance to grow and understand yourself a little more!"

"I'd hate to break you two up, but people are waiting outside."

You both freeze at the sound of the nurse's voice being so close now. She's standing nearby now rather than simply waiting by the doorway, an observation that makes you question just when she'd come closer and how much she'd heard you talk as a result. Still, she doesn't appear fazed nor bothered by anything, so you take it she'd either just arrived at your side or had found a way not to overhear while she waited.

"The doctor should be here soon, so we have to cut your visits short."

In compliance to her words, you wrap your conversation up with the skeleton and tell him you'll message him over your next tour date. You would need a little more time to recover now, so it would only be common sense to check through your schedule, sort things out with your job, and manage how you would deal with Frisk's school days and homework. The monsters were already doing you plenty of favours, and yet you only knew two of them in person, three if you counted how often you talked with Toriel through phone and video calls despite not visiting her home to this day. Asking them for any more help than what they were already giving was out of the question. 

Even if such fantasy-like beings existed, that didn't mean they were as magically potent as most books made them out to be. At the end of the day, they were living, breathing beings just like you, with lives of their very own and troubles just like any other human being you knew. What made you different were your appearances and customs, and even then that was something that could be overlooked with due time and mutual understanding, as it isn't as important as who they are and what they do to live each day like you did with your own.

"Let me know if ya need help with Frisk's school," Sans says, already standing near the doorway. "You can't recover if you don't look for help."

And with that, he leaves.

Whether you were an open book or he a mind reader, you can't tell for certain, but if there's one thing you could use presently, it's words like those.

You barely have a chance to say thank you as other visitors step inside, some familiar and some not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The holidays are now over where I'm from, so expect updates to return to their usual Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday schedule (depending on the chapters' lengths) starting from the 16th of this month!


	13. Chapter Seven | Dogsong (Part 2 of 2)

"Two at a time, please."

The first two visitors to enter after Sans are Frisk and Toriel, both who carry bags in their hands and smiles on their faces. The goat lady's the first to approach you while your child stays back, observing from the distance of the open door and waiting until you both greet each other. You'd seen her plenty of times before through video calls, and you'd listened to her speak about twice as many times through regular phone calls. Seeing her right at the foot of your bed is a different experience in itself, and you have some trouble adjusting to her presence just as you did with Sans's. It's like you've been dragged right back into a fantasy novel, though this time, there's a lot more of those magical beings waiting for you besides the two skeletons you'd gotten to know so far and the few groups of bunny, bear, and fish people you often saw shopping, driving, or near their apartments, going about their day-by-day. 

"How are you feeling?" Toriel asks, taking a seat near your bed when you suggest her to. "Frisk made you this soup, and they packed up more clothes for you while you're discharged from the hospital." Her smile turns brighter as she offers you a large and heavy, plastic container wrapped in a paper bag. It's still warm on the surface and warmer still below, though she seems to have already anticipated that based on the kitchen mitten placed underneath the bowl. You set it aside when you notice she plans to give you something else and sit straighter in bed to make it easier for her to approach you. "There are also some sweets we made yesterday, so do not be ashamed to eat now while the food is still fresh. You must eat well if you want to recover sooner!" Yet again, you set the bowl aside and wait as she retrieves something else from within all the belongings she has with her. "And this is your substitute phone while Alphys fixes yours. She could not make it today, but she gave me this and told me to take your phone to her after I visited you. Or you can also use the address on the card she gave you if you need time to transfer any information to your new phone."

" _Fix_ it?" you ask, eyes wide. "Isn't it already enough that she's giving me a substitute one, though? I can send mine to fix on my own! It's okay."

"No need -- It's alright." The goat woman shakes her head and softens her smile. "She insists, and she will have no trouble fixing it for you! But _do_ give her a call later on if you remain unsure. I do not wish to impose on you, after all!"

"Thank you." You look around and hesitate with how many things you have with you now. "...For _everything_ , really."

"It's no trouble. Frisk made most of it!"

"No, I didn't." Frisk's voice is sudden but soft, amusement shown through a smile. "You helped me with almost everything!" They take a pause to grin, face almost bursting with excitement as a result. "You should've seen her yesterday, (mom/dad). She was all worried about you and saying stuff about how much she wished she could've met you sooner to help you out more! She-"

"That's enough, dear," you intervene, shushing them further by gesturing for them to approach your side; Toriel stands up and allows them to sit near you instead, providing you with the needed privacy to have a talk with them.

When they're closer by, you speak in a calmer, hushed tone, against being too loud with your scolding in public. "You're being far too nosy, and you're being disrespectful to miss Toriel. I get that you're excited, but you have to be a bit more aware of her feelings before you say stuff like that out loud. She might take it the wrong way."

Frisk pouts but relents after, smile returning as they nod once. "Okay, but…" They frown and tilt their head to the side. "Why is it disrespectful?"

"Frisk-"

"I- I mean it! I…" They sigh and deepen their frown. "I _really_ don't get what I did wrong."

You direct a stern look at Frisk until you decide their words are honest. Then, you ponder over them, not quite sure over how to explain yourself. "It's, well..." You stop, hesitating over your word choice. "It's what you said about Toriel being really worried after she heard the news about me. Maybe you didn't do it with any bad intentions, but compare that to that time you said I only text auntie and Sans. Aren't they both similar, in a sense? You're saying stuff about people that might sound too rude or too personal for you to be talking about it in this way." You take a pause and wait for them to follow up with your explanation. "How do you think I would've felt if you said that stuff in front of a whole bunch of people -- that stuff you said about me having no friends and all that?" You smile and place a hand over their head as a way to inform you're not angered by those past actions. "Do you... Do you understand a bit better now?"

It takes a while of silence before they nod, though when they do, their frown's gone and replaced by a grin. They face your eyes, more confident now. "I get it now!"

"Are you sure?"

"Really, _really_ sure."

"Alright," you say, taking a breath as you consider your next words. "Then let's compare these two things, just to be safe…" You take another quick break, formulating the scenarios in your mind. "What if you caught me singing off-tune in the shower, or snoring really loud one day? And what if you caught one of your classmates making fun of someone else, or someone kicking or mistreating an animal? ...Which one's best to keep quiet about, and which one isn't?"

Silence follows after your question once more, though Frisk soon replies with, "The last two. If… If I see someone or an animal getting hurt, then I should look for help!"

You nod, though it's as if something possesses your brain and tongue when you say, "Then why haven't you told me much about those who hurt you at the Underground? Why are you trying to cover up for them?"

Thankfully, a headache wrestles your anger back down and reminds you to remain neutral over the subject, even if you _did_ just want to see everyone related to the Underground as an enemy with the mere thought of any of them being accomplices to those who sought after your child. "I'm... I'm sorry," you say, huffing as you bring a hand over your forehead. "It's not the time for me to be bringing that up. But... You still have to tell me soon, okay? It'll make this easier for all of us."

"Would you like to talk about this with me, (L/N)?" Toriel asks; her furrowed brow and a faint frown show her concern over you, though it still doesn't help calm your own set of worries about how you should act around her kind and just how close could you allow yourself to be with them. "You should still rest up and eat now, of course, but would you like to visit my home after you're finished with your tour?" She forms a smile. "I can contact Alphys and the others to meet up there, as well, and we could begin to sort matters out with each other better!" Her frown fades completely as she beams at you, and her smile becomes contagious as she continues with, "Does… Does that sound alright with you? I have been wanting to get to know you better for some time now!"

Guilt becomes insurmountable the further you listen to her speak. Personal and emotional morals combat with more general and normative ones, worsening your already poor health and weakening your resolve. Still, you don't want to leave her hanging, so you nod and manage a smile back at her. "That sounds good. Should we... set up a date later through message, then?"

"Of course!" Her face brightens, and her body nearly perks up in response to your agreement. "It's no trouble at all."

The nurse warns Toriel over there being ten minutes left of her and Frisk's visit, so she cuts things short by hugging you goodbye and waiting for Frisk to do the same with you next. The goat lady leaves and waits behind the closed door, giving you enough privacy again in order to spend some last few moments with Frisk. They sit with you in bed and look up at you; it's evident they have plenty of questions they want to ask, though they stay quiet as they then look down, pout, and fiddle with their thumbs. 

While you give them time to adjust, you take another glance at everything that's waiting for you at the very side of your bed. With Frisk sitting to your left and all the stuff you'd been given placed on your right, there's barely any space left for much else. There's countless objects waiting for you to look through, from the soup and sweets Toriel handed over to the phone Alphys sent and the few other gifts and basic utilities Frisk continued to bring to your bed as they left and entered the room during your conversation with Toriel, these all given to them by those waiting at the door. It almost feels like a dream when you think about how much support this is compared to what you received from your family and past friends these days, but then again, there's the reminder of who these new people are and the reality of how little contact you had with friends and family over the past few months keeping you grounded to reality. Just as monsters had inadvertently tainted any possible, immediate trust with you by hurting the one closest to you, you'd tainted close bonds and relationships by neglecting them and yourself since matters became tough and tense for you, especially present in those two months since Frisk was gone.

The few monsters you'd met so far were kind and thoughtful, but then again, they were still only acquaintances you were barely getting to know.

And the only other family member who'd contacted you since Frisk's return besides the monsters was your aunt, but then again, you'd been a bit of a (if not a complete) jerk by neglecting their prior help and shutting yourself off from the world.

You don't tune into how far you've fallen into those thoughts until you have Frisk sitting on your lap, with one hand offering you a napkin and the other clenching onto their knee, worry being let out through it. "...What's wrong, (mom/dad)?" they ask, clenching both knees when you take the napkin. "You've been quiet for awhile, and you… You started tearing up all of a sudden."

Against making them fret further than they have already, you wipe your tears away with the napkin and smile at them. Then, you sigh and think matters through. The ache in your heart reminds you this is barely the beginning of your journey, and that -- just as you were cornered by that man at the bus -- there would be plenty more people like him observing and judging your actions, be it as directly as he had been with his confrontation, or similar to the subtle side eyes and quiet scoffs some of your neighbours gave you since the day Frisk fell into the Underground. It wouldn't be an easy battle, so feeling _this_ weak right from the very start of it all makes you feel a lot more useless than you did prior to their return. Rancor and loathe against your own self heightens the longer you think about it, but one single sniffle heard from Frisk and the sight of them about to cry lassoes you back into shape, if only for the moment being.

"Frisk, honey," you say, words hushed as you bring them closer to you, hugging them tight. "I'm fine." You let them go and kiss their forehead, facing them after. I'm just… a little tired from everything that happened yesterday, but I'll be fine now that I'm here. So try not to worry so much, okay? I'll do my best for you as soon as I'm let out of here."

"But… But you'll still take care of yourself, right? I want to see you healthy again!"

"Of course I will." You chuckle, help them get down from the bed, and remind yourself you've already far from exceeded the time the nurse gave you for each visit. You've taken double the time to wrap things up with Frisk, so you make a mental note to make a more formal apology to her and to let the other visitors know about time crunch in the most polite way you can possibly think of. "Now go back with miss Toriel, alright? You have school in about an hour, don't you?"

They smile and nod. "...See you later, (mom/dad)?"

You smile back. "See you later, dear."

As they leave and their shape becomes nothing but a blur when they pass through the door, bitterness returns to your heart, and you succumb yourself to it until the nurse arrives to check up on you. 

The few monsters that were once waiting outside are now gone, though she gives you one last thing pertaining to one of them. "I advised the rest of your visitors to come back tomorrow if they were able to, though one of them still had something they wanted to give you before then."

"How many were there left?" you ask, taking the gift and setting it aside with the rest of the items laid in bed. "And I…" You feel embarrassment burn your cheeks at the thought of having delayed two whole visits in just one day. "I apologize for taking so long with…" You're not sure how to address your first visitor any longer; a vague and flimsy line between being acquaintances and friends was still present, though neither of you have acknowledged it as of yet. "Frisk, and well… the one who brought me here -- mister Serif."

The nurse's face soothes up with a grin she tries to fight back. "There were four more people waiting for you." Her grin fails to be kept back as she adds, "But did you not call him by his first name yesterday? I'm surprised you're being so formal about this now."

"It was in the heat of the moment." You let out a laugh when she does the same. "But honestly, I'm wondering if we're friends, or if he just... felt like it was his duty to be responsible over me."

She hums and taps her pen against the notepad in her hand. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad you have someone here for you. It's always nice to have support at times like these, don't you think so? That group of people waiting for you outside was a true sight for sore eyes!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted half-past midnight, and so it's technically not Saturday anymore... But let's pretend I totally didn't forget it was Saturday yesterday. 👀


	14. Chapter Eight | Dating Start! (Part 1 of 3)

It’s only when you’re halfway into touring through Toriel’s old home that you start to question how safe your decisions are.

Even if Frisk returned home safe and sound, that still doesn’t brush off your concerns over them covering stuff up for the monsters’ sake, and that still doesn’t negate the bizarre factor that you’re completely alone with someone capable of magic – teleportation and telekinesis, more specifically – adding to all that the poor state of your health and how it’s still far from achieving its full recovery.

“And this’s where they stayed before they left the Ruins,” Sans says, opening a door leading into a children’s bedroom, most of the space occupied by a bed, a wardrobe, and boxes of all sorts. Evidence of there being no one to habit or look after the room for what has to be a whole month now since the Barrier broke shows through thin layers of dust and dirt on most surfaces as well as cobwebs already strewn about the corners of the room. “You, uh, should probably wear this.” He offers you a piece of cloth – a bandana, to be more precise. You eye him over as you wonder where he could’ve possibly gotten it from and obtain an answer when he takes out another from his jacket’s front pockets. “It’s for the dust,” the monster explains, chuckling. “Even if it ain’t that bad, I don’t want you gettin’ sick again so soon.” When you give in with a smile, he adds, “…Thought I was tryna drug you or somethin’?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Well, at least you’re honest ‘bout it." 

You bite your smile back when he winks and look away after, still against befriending him _too_ much with your current, limited knowledge of him. Then, you wear the bandana over your nose and mouth, though only after checking it hasn’t been tampered with; finally, you tie a firm knot and approach his side, kneeling down next to a large, wooden chest when he does the same. He wipes some dust off the surface, opens it, and reveals a set of Frisk’s clothes along with a few other stray belongings of theirs. Most of these are mundane and overall replaceable items, although invaluable in terms of fond memories – these you’d taken notice of their absence in your household whenever you cleaned Frisk’s bedroom during the time they were gone. There’s plenty of stuff inside, from an old and worn, plush keychain once carrying their own set of house keys to the comb they used for their hair whenever they wanted to leave it below their neck. These are enough for you to start thinking about the past again and its unavoidable whirlwind of 'what-ifs’, delaying whatever progress you were thinking of making in relation to moving on. "Tori stored everythin’ they left behind when they went off to Snowdin, so if you wanna take any of that stuff with you, it’s-”

You figure your eyes reveal you’re about to give into crying when he stops talking, so you sniffle and look away again, failing to stop yourself from tearing up more when he asks, “You doing okay?”

His leveled tone and the silence that follows after his question reveal his sincerity, though you don’t dare to look at him now that you’re near crying up a storm. Thinking about how different life would’ve been had Frisk chosen to stay here at the Underground with only Toriel by their side far from alleviates the situation and – rather – summons a tidal wave right into your tear ducts, finally evoking the waterways you’d long since been holding back. “I- I’m okay.” Your stuffy nose and stuttered reply demonstrate the complete opposite, something he appears to catch onto as well, judging by how he tries to get another look at you, only for you to shield yourself from his gaze again. “I just need a minute… But thank you, really.”

When you’ve managed to wipe your face clean from tears, you catch a glimpse of him as you look back to see what he’s doing. There’s a noticeable trace of remorse present in his irises, an expression he gives background to when he turns to you and says, “Sorry about that – It was tactless of me to show you somethin’ like this so soon. And what I said didn’t really top it off well, huh?”

His words are enough of a reason for you to face him with watery eyes once more. “N- No,” you say, words murmured as you manage a small smile. “You don’t have to apologize. That wasn’t rude or anything. This is your job – This is what you’re meant to show me, and I was the one who… who started imagining things in the first place.” Images of Frisk’s life had they chosen to stay with Toriel continue to flash into your mind, but you manage to push most of them aside to focus on what’s more important now. “It’s just, I… I can’t help thinking about how it would’ve been had… Frisk stayed here with you all.” With that being let out of your chest, you take a deep breath and stand up, dusting off your clothes when you’re done. “But now’s not the time for me to bringing all this stuff up.” You smile at him and add, “We have an agreement and a deadline. It wouldn’t be fair for me to hold you back like this.” You take a step back when he stands up, closes the chest, and turns to your side, somewhat wary of proximity now. “And you already did more than enough for me back at the hospital.”

Leaving the room is your top priority now that you feel yourself growing too wary of everything, from the tiniest noise the empty house makes to the smallest change you can catch in the monster’s face. Your walking pace is quick though restrained for the sake of politeness and discretion as you make way to the door; nonetheless, you have all your plans switched and delayed the second he places his hand over yours when you attempt to turn the handle around. Flinching is the first reaction he gets out of you, along with an instinct to push him away as far as you possibly can; still, you get a hold of yourself and only swat his hand away, a blatant signal for him to back away. Being aware of how helpful he’s been the past month delivers guilt into your mind almost immediately, though you can’t help feeling cornered by his presence the more you think and overthink about the situation, had he chosen to do his job as a sentry the proper way – had he chosen to show no lenience or remorse. Whether had most monsters shown Frisk mercy for the sole sake of them being a child or for Frisk offering that mercy back to the monsters in the first place leaves you questioning over what would’ve happened had a more grown and morally grey person fallen here instead.

Toriel would’ve most likely _not_ seen you as someone to care after.

And, based on what little you knew about the monster before you and how his magic worked, he wouldn’t be so kind, either.

“What… What if _I’d_ fallen, instead?”

You face him in the irises when you say that, and though every fiber of your being wants to apologize for nearly shoving him off of you, there’s that one persistent part in your brain insisting you do things this way. 

“I’m an adult, aren’t I? Did you all just show compassion because Frisk’s a child?”

“Some of the souls Asgore took were still children, so it’s not because of that.”

Your body turns cold and your eyes stay fixed on his face. How he dared to be so bold and maintain a sober expression throughout leaves you more and more worried over who you’re taking a tour with.

“Why would you say it like that?”

“'Cause I won’t get anywhere sugarcoatin’ the truth. Frisk made us see things differently, and that helped create a change in how we did things around here. So if you’d done the same thing, it wouldn’t have mattered whether you were a kid or not.”

“…And how can I believe you?”

“'Fraid only time will tell, pal.”

Well-aware you’re not ready to continue with the tour yet, you press your back against the door, brace yourself with a hitched breath, and take a good look at every possible change you can catch in the monster’s irises. Though you weren’t that good at reading facial expressions and lying was even harder to figure out the less you knew the person, his gaze doesn’t falter from yours and his choice of words along with his neutral tone are good enough to make you believe him for now – at least, sufficient for you to keep the tour going and not doubt over the reason why he’d helped you get to a hospital, doing almost everything himself for reasons unknown beyond a paper keeping you bound to being protected by him. “I’m sorry for pushing you like that,” you say, gaze faltering. “I didn’t mean to act that way, and I’m… I’m sorry if I hurt you.” You look back to him and see he’s returned to his normal self; his serious expression’s no longer present, but rather, his worryingly casual self makes its comeback – the one you saw most often on him regardless of how tense or dire a situation became.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” you ask, taking a step closer, fueled by worry and a lingering, parental instinct.

“Only my feelings – But just a lil’ bit, though.” he replies, grinning. “And here I was, thinkin’ we made it past acquaintances to friends.”

“Listen, I-”

“Don’t sweat it, pal. I’m only jokin’ with you.”

“Still, I owe you a lot. And it’s awful of me to be treating you like this. Are you… Are you okay with continuing with the tour today? I understand if you don’t want to anymore.”

“We can keep going.” He winks. “You said it was my job, wasn’t it? I won’t back away now, unless you needa rest or somethin’.”

With no further words exchanged between you, he helps settle Frisk’s belongings into your backpack and you both leave the room after you’re done.

The walk on the way to your next destination’s quiet, up until he’s about to push open the door leading to what you assume’s none other than Snowdin.

“That being said…” He looks at you then. “Do ya wanna rest and eat somethin’ now? It’s been a few hours since we met at the bus stop. And I’m pretty sure there’s a shopkeeper lady still sellin’ stuff around here.”

“Really? Even though everyone’s left?” you ask, following him along when he opens the door. It gives in with an abrupt, ear-piercing creak, and a frigid gust of wind quickly makes its way into the home; the harshness of the cold can be felt even through the jacket you’re wearing, though you don’t want to show further weakness. Keeping the bandana on seems useful for more reasons now, though you take it off your face and wrap it around your neck for more warmth.

“Believe it or not, the whole law 'bout this place bein’ dangerous gets bent easily whenever people wanna act as tourists on an island. The shopkeeper had no luck finding a job up there, so she saw that chance down 'ere and took it. It’s a bit of a sacrifice for her to keep living down 'ere while her family just keeps moving on, but she says it’s one worth taking.” He stops to look at you, as if having an epiphany. “But that’s just life in a nutshell, ain’t it? You’re pretty much doing somethin’ similar by getting to know us 'stead of just hating us right from the start, aren’t ya? Almost everythin’ worth doing ain’t easy, so we gotta give each other credit where it’s due.”

* * *

**His POV**

The human returns from the shop fifteen minutes later with a tray of cinnamon bunnies and two hot chocolates, both they seem to have trouble carrying when their glasses fog up with the steam rising from both desserts. Sans snickers at the sight, though he still approaches them and helps them carry the two cups back to his spot at the front doorway of Grillby’s old place, still warm with the owner’s leftover flame magic. Then, he sits back down with them there and observes as they take a pastry with a napkin and offer it out to him.

“Go ahead,” he says. “I’ve had 'em before, so I’d like to know what you think of 'em first.”

(Y/N) nods and brings the pastry to their mouth, taking almost half of it away in one bite. Sans tries not to stare for too long, though he finds that a challenge when their face lights up and their stance straightens, both of these already revealing what they think about the cinnamon bunny. “It tastes great,” they say, taking a break from eating to look at the three other pastries still left out on the tray. “And they’re cute-looking, too. No wonder this place is so popular!” They finish their first pastry and, with a new napkin, offer one out to him. “Now _you_ have some,” they add, smiling at him. “Working on an empty stomach isn’t good for you.”

“A dead man talkin’ about a hanged one, huh?” he taunts, grinning at them. “When’s the last time you sat down to eat like this – without any rush?”

They roll their eyes, albeit playfully. “…When I had lunch with Papyrus a few weeks ago? And, uh… When Toriel and Brenda brought me food at the hospital, maybe?”

“See what I mean?”

“Oh, _shut up.”_ They let out a laugh. The cinnamon bunny in their hand almost falls as a result of their outburst, but they manage to save it in a way that lands back on the tray, though still squishing up the shape of what once used to be a round bunny. “Look what you made me do!”

He looks down at the tray to see the situation’s even more catastrophic than simply the pastry getting squished up by the fall. One of the bunny ears isn’t there anymore and instead remains equally squished by the napkin they’ve yet to let go of. “It’s not _that_ bad,” he says, snickering. “Missing ear aside, it’s well… still recognizable.”

Seeing an opportunity for him to try something, the skeleton moves a bit closer to their side, leans into the napkin in their hold, and bites on the missing ear, backing away after he has a secure hold of it. As expected – and in sharp comparison to the incident at Toriel’s old home – they aren’t on-edge presently and don’t flinch away when being in closer contact with him.

He gulps the bit of pastry down and spares a quick look at their face when he’s done, only to see them frozen in the very same spot they were left in before. “Uh… You okay?”

“Did you _really_ just try that with me?” they question back, facing him with wide eyes.

Their previous stillness makes more sense now, yet right as he’s about to apologize and believe that he’s screwed up twice in one day, the human bursts out a laugh, sets the napkin down, and smacks his back, a playful act despite how hard they do it. “Nice one.” They chuckle. “Really wouldn’t have expected something so bold from you, but anyway…” They look at him with calm eyes – as if he hadn’t just crossed _that_ many boundaries with them with one simple, yet highly invasive action. “That reminds me… How’s that self-discovery stuff going for you? Have you… opened up to your brother about this yet?”

He’s grateful they wait until a few passerby walk away before they ask that question, so he answers quickly with, “I’m still workin’ on it, but I do feel more comfortable now.”

They smile and all the (assumedly) fake shock from before fades when they say, “That’s great!” Just as he thinks things can’t get more flustering today, the human takes a new napkin and uses it to wipe something off his cheekbone. “You had some cinnamon on your face, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he says, facing away and taking in a sharp breath.

Hundreds upon thousands of questions begin surfacing into his mind, from something as simple as _“What am I feeling right now?”_ and _“Why do I even feel this way to begin with?”_ to _“How did (Y/N) **not** freak the hell out when having me take such a risky move with that cinnamon bunny?”_

Based on how they reacted when being put on the spot back at Toriel’s old home, they clearly _weren’t_ ready for him to reveal whatever forlorn emotions he was beginning to feel recently.

And based on his own actions in response to those feelings, he clearly _wasn’t_ , either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be this Monday’s update, but I’ve been having some health-related issues the past week, and I’m still currently under recovery (which is… honestly nothing new for the readers of the old version of this fanfic – I’m slowly getting used to my crappy immune system, lol).
> 
> In short, expect an update on the usual Saturday schedule, and another extra update on Sunday to make up for both Monday and Wednesday’s missed updates (it’s midnight on a Thursday right now, so I, uh… still ended up missing Wednesday’s one – oof).
> 
> With that being said, take care, and stay safe out there, everyone!


	15. Chapter Eight | Dating Start! (Part 2 of 3)

"Can I see your hand for a moment?"

The question's immediate, guilt pushing you to blurt it out the second you step foot out of Snowdin. Even so, he doesn't rush in giving you an answer and, rather, looks at you like you've asked the most absurd question of the century. "C'mon, pal," he says, sneering. "Don't tell me you're still worked up about this?"

Beyond pissed he's brushed it off so easily while you're still stressing your years out over it, you huff and hold back the urge to glare at him. "Yes, I am. Now can you show it to me, please?"

"Alright."

Sans gives in with a grin and takes off his gloves. Then, he shows you the hand you'd hit to reveal there's a reddish mark visible on it despite him being made out of bones. "See what I mean? Your hand's got a bruise on it!" You frown at the sight and take his hand, using your thumb to rub at the injury. "Does it hurt? I figured you could still bruise… But just, not like this."

"I'll be fine," he says, pulling his hand back. "That's probably just frostbite or somethin'." He walks with you to the nearby river and sits down next to it, letting his legs drape over the edge and shoes barely graze the surface of the water. "It'll fade after a while."

"At least let me try to do _something_ ," you say, persistent. You sit next to him and look at his hand again, now resting on one of the many puddles surrounding the floor. True to his word, the mark starts to fade with the help of the lukewarm water, though only slightly and -- when compared to his other hand -- it's clear as day the mark that's left is a result of you swatting his hand away earlier. "Give me your hand."

"In marriage?"

You bite back a smile, caught off guard more than you would like to admit. "Are you _that_ set on teasing me like this from now on?" you retort, maintaining a stern look throughout. "I thought you said you weren't interested in this kind of stuff?"

"Yeah, but flirting's different."

"So now you admit you're flirting with me?"

"You're not gonna give this a rest, aren't ya?"

"Not unless you show me your hand again."

"Fine." He chuckles, offering his hand out to you. "Go ahead."

You take his hand -- left bare now that he's not wearing gloves anymore -- and place it over your thigh as a makeshift table. Then, you take a first aid kit from your backpack and retrieve a few items from it. "Stay still," you say, facing his hand. "I'm not sure if human-made medicine works the same with monsters, but…" You disinfect the wound, rub some cooling gel over the burn mark, and stick a waterproof bandage on it after, all while ignoring how tense his hand gets until you're finished with the process. 

"Nervous?" you ask, grinning. "Your hand's all stiff now."

"I thought you said you would give your own teasin' a rest?"

"It's not teasing if it's the truth."

The conversation's ended on that when his phone starts to ring.

He stands up, reaches out for it and -- though he tries his best not to let it show -- it's made more than obvious he doesn't want you to see who the caller is by how awkward his body language gets. His irises jump from the phone and a nearby spot for him to possibly answer the call without any interruptions, to your face and the hand you healed up. A conflict seems to settle itself out in his mind when he decides to take the call right where he is, though still without revealing who the person is.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other side booms with a _"Have you done it yet?"_ , impatience present in their voice. It's a familiar sounding one, though you don't want to jump to conclusions yet with how bizarre the possibility is. 

_"Tell them everything in detail, or I'll do it myself in front of a whole damn crowd,"_ is another line you can hear from the person, how quiet Waterfall is allowing you to listen to them even as Sans tries to lower the volume some.

"I will," he mutters, a neutral tone masking the subtle, annoyed look on his face, completed with him rolling his irises. "Just gimme a sec, will ya? I'm kinda in the middle of somethin' right now."

The skeleton hangs up after that and lets out a quiet sigh. He seems troubled in more ways than one, something that increments when he makes eye contact with you. "You, uh... probably heard that with how loud he was, huh?" he asks, hangdog. "It's about time I told you more about myself, though. So it's only fair."

"What do you mean?" You frown, stand up, and take a step closer to his side; fighting back the urge to push any further is almost impossible to do, yet you try it either way. "And... Who was that?"

"You probably won't like the answer to that last question, but, well…" He scratches the back of his neck as he takes a breath. "He basically gave me a deadline for me to tell you all about who I am, and who I used to be."

"Who is he, then?"

"Your ex."

An instinct to retreat from the conversation arrives at the mention of that man, though you push through it. Running away from the subject wouldn't do you good anymore, especially now, taking into consideration how Jerry's apparently given up on trying to communicate with you through text, and instead chosen to place the burden on others rather than by approaching you directly. "Block him," you blurt out, anger nulling your subtlety and tact. "And if he's blackmailing you into this, I'll deal with him. Even if he wants you to confess about everything, he still needs to be _way_ more upfront about it. Hiding behind threats and text messages won't do him any favours on my part or anyone else's."

He sits down with you again. The rippling and bubbling sounds of the waterfall clashing with the river help soothe the tension between you, aiding you both in finding the will to carry on with the conversation. It's likely a busy place like a city on a Monday or the shop back at Snowdin wouldn't've been adequate places for you to discuss this with him, so you bask under the calm and silence of Waterfall as you wait for him to decide on what to do. "I mean it," you say, facing him. "If he's threatening you, I'll talk with him. It's no use for you to tell me everything by force than through honesty -- like you've done so far. It… It feels more genuine, and I like it better that way."

You break your gaze away and carry it over to the river, casting it down to look at your reflection in the water. Your fingers brush with the surface as you continue to wait for him to speak up, and a ghostly warmth stays on your fingertips despite the anticipation of the water being cold, a brief sensation that fades when you pull your hand back. Your skin glows with the help of the echo flowers spread all around the area, and the near translucent water serves as natural lighting for the mellow darkness of your surroundings. Of all the places you'd been given a tour of since arriving at the Underground, Waterfall was by far the most breathtaking of them all.

"It's fine," he says, casual self returning. "I was gonna tell you along the way to Hotland, either way."

"Pinky promise you're not being forced by him?" you ask, looking at him once more and offering him your pinky.

His nose cavity flares as he lets out a laugh, though he still extends his pinky out and locks it with yours. "Pinky promise I'm not."

* * *

The mood leftover after the promise begins to vanish when Sans starts to talk about what Jerry called him for, and it takes a turn for the worse when the monster reaches the topic of Toriel and her relationship with Frisk.

"So she really let them go all alone?"

"Yeah, but after she tested to see if they were strong enough to. The kid wanted to explore beyond the Ruins, and so she let them go after that."

He's explained everything the man at the bus yelled at you for, though -- of course -- in a much calmer, detailed manner than him.

"She cared so much for them, that at the end of it all, she even asked them if they wanted to live with her at the Surface."

"Y- You mean as her _child_?" you ask, voice breaking with your shock. "Why would she even ask that? Did... Did Frisk never tell her they ran away?"

"Not until the Barrier broke," he replies, kicking a stray rock into the water. It makes the surface ripple further and -- once it reaches the bottom -- it starts to glow, resembling the rocks visible in the Underground's makeshift, starry sky. "They said they had somewhere else to be, and that's when they told her all about you and how they wanted to go back home."

"So if they were angry at me, I… I might've never seen them again?"

Anger mixes with your lament, troubling you to the point where you can't judge the situation rationally anymore -- or without being influenced by your emotions so heavily, at least.

"Are you… Are you _really_ telling me she would have replaced me as a parent? I… I-"

"Whoa there," he intervenes, letting out a nervous laugh. "That's not what I meant by that. She didn't know until after she asked them that, so what I'm sayin' is-"

"She wanted to keep Frisk as her _child_ , Serif. That's enough of a reason for me to feel angry about this." Your voice raises and a glare shows up on your face. He stands up in response to your change in mood and tries to ease you out of your anger by offering a hand out to you. "I… I'm more than relieved she looked after them for so long, but… But couldn't she ask them over why they fell down here? Why didn't she ask them if they had someone to look after them way before that, and why did she try to keep them in the Ruins rather than help them journey through the Underground safely?"

"Now that's a bit complicated for me to explain, but…" He sighs and looks up at you when you take his hand and let him help you stand up again. "At the end of the day, it's better if she tells you all about that herself. She understands why she did that better than I ever will, and she can tell you stuff I otherwise won't be able to tell you without her prior knowledge." Although he doesn't have a throat, he almost seems to gulp with the next pause he takes. "But, well… If you need more context as to why she was so attached to Frisk as a parent, she lost both her biological son and adoptive kid way back when."

Your eyes falter in their glare when he says that, though your own emotions still keep you from softening up in response to such a reveal. Respecting Toriel's privacy by not forcing Sans to tell you all about her seems like the most humane thing to do even more now, so you let your glare fade away and ease in with a smile, fueled by sympathy. "...Alright," you say, letting out a breath as you allow your body to free itself from tension. "I understand, and I'm… I'm sorry for prying into this. I didn't know."

Expecting more words from him, you're contradicted when he only chooses to smile back at you and nod. "Anythin' else ya wanna ask me about myself, though? Take a breather, and tell me when you're ready to talk some more."

"Thank you."

You take up his advice and take a moment to compose yourself. You start by looking for your medicine and taking the one you need to for the hour it is; then, you drink some water and take a look at yourself through the river's reflection to see your eyes are already on the verge of watering up again. Continuously feeling sad over the past is almost a trademark of yours now, so you want to shatter that custom by mustering up as much emotional strength as you possibly can.

When you're more confident with yourself, you put the medicine back and drink the rest of the water, storing the empty bottle away after. 

"You were a sentry for the Underground, weren't you?"

The skeleton either didn't hear you, or your question's caught him off guard, the latter you try to discard when you see he's busy helping a small bird cross the waterfall, it's wings too weak for it to battle against the wind caused by the strength of the rushing water. He walks back to the river after that, though once he makes it back with you, it's noticeable how he's chosen not to answer your question yet, judging by the way his irises divert from yours the second he tries to look at you in the eye. "...Yeah," he says, finally managing a reply. "I know we've talked about this before, but… Could you still promise me you won't freak out too much? Or at least, well... Not at the same level as that guy back at the bus? Not that I don't want you to feel upset, but I just don't want you to end up in the hospital again because of somethin' like this."

"Believe me, I won't," you say, voice and gaze both stern, albeit softened by his words. "That's the last thing I want. But… Could you still tell me more about you in that sense? I want to know more about what your job as a sentry implied -- to more detail, I mean."

"Go ahead," he says, nodding. "I'll try to answer with as much depth as I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment when you have to cut the chapter into 1 more part because you hadn't checked the word count, and part 2 was 5k words long. 👀
> 
> Also, quick fun fact: I almost wrote 'promise by the tiny claw' rather than 'pinky promise', because where I'm from we say 'lo prometo por la garrita', and my brain just failed to come up with the proper translation for pinky finger in English for a whole solid minute, lol. 


	16. Chapter Eight | Dating Start! (Part 3 of 3)

Thankful he seems to be taking this just as seriously as you are, you begin with, "Back at that restaurant, you mentioned you could've most likely hurt anyone who passed beyond the Ruins, regardless of who they were, right?" He nods, so you add, "Why did you choose not to hurt Frisk, if that's the case? What…. What stopped you this time around?

"It used to be like that, yeah," he says, blunt. "But I made a promise _not_ to do that not long after I was assigned to the job. Not that I even, well, favour killing innocent people to begin with, but that was the job assigned to me back then."

"And couldn't you have searched for another solution?" You're left in disbelief and think on how closely his words match with the rumours beginning to rise about monsterkind, most of it leaked by people like the man on the bus after your hospitalization -- through clips and videos of your incident at the bus, all of these posted on social media. "Just how many lives did you take before you made that promise?"

Your initial, more tolerant view of Sans diminishes the longer you give thought to that interrogative. 

Monsters were said to be merciful and kind, yet the first rumour you unmasked as true since that day at the restaurant was that of Asgore having ordered to _kill_ seven humans for their souls?

"You-" you stutter, ire clouding both coherent thinking and structure alike. "You're just another hypocrite, aren't you?"

You peer down at him, his shorter height helping you maintain authority from within. 

"Frisk talks all about how kind, nice, and friendly you monsters supposedly are, but in the end, you- you've spilled just as much as blood as any other human being." Your voice breaks, the thought of Frisk passing away in the hands of a monster sending further ire down your body. "Frisk could've _died_ in the hands of people like you, so I have no right to listen to how you deserve seeing them again, let alone a goat lady who claims she sees them as her child instead of mine." The thought of Sans being more guilty of a person than you once thought crumbles whatever kind view you had since meeting him. "I… I refuse to let Frisk see _any_ of your kind again!"

A near foreign expression reaches his face just then -- almost hurt weren't you so used to him being all chill and unbothered a solid ninety-nine point nine percent of the times you've been around him. You refuse to believe he's been hurt by your words, though that changes when you see him recover from that expression once you don't show any signs of backing away from what you said. His irises turn dim, though he tries to recover with a soft breath out.

"And then... That's it?" he asks, masking whatever emotion he was feeling just a second ago. "So even those who haven't done anything bad get repercussions for it?" The patience in his tone snaps, though his expression remains the same, mellow and waiting for you to regain some calm yourself. "Humans have done more harm than we ever have. Asgore did that just so we could be set free."

"And you think that makes you guys doing it _justifiable_? Maybe six deaths seems _trifling_ over your freedom, but did you consider those people before ending their lives?" You're quite frankly pissed now, incapable over -- and unwilling of -- hearing him speak without wanting to snap at him with every response he gives you. "Did they willingly sacrifice themselves for your kinds' freedom, or did Frisk have to fall down here and make you understand _none_ of this was ever okay?"

The monster tries to reach a hand out for you, yet you avoid him, only realizing why he does that when you trip, hitting the edge of the river. He grabs your arm to make up for it, though you prove to be too heavy for him, sending you both to the water. A loud splash accompanies your fall, yet the strangeness of not feeling wet prompts you to open your eyes then, these having instinctively closed the second you tripped. Limbs left uncovered sting with the strength of the fall rather than over water splashing you, and that observation finally makes you look around to witness a thin veil of blue magic keeping you from falling into the water.

"I get that, as a parent, you're overreacting right now, but I'll stand by what Frisk's said about you and what I've learned about you since we've met." A beat of silence passes as he waits for you to calm down. "I know you're still a patient person underneath all that you're pullin' off on me."

"All that _what_ , exactly?" you ask, a glare returning to your face. "And you think I'm overreacting? Didn't you hear what I said?"

"I heard you, and I know my kind's gonna pay for the damage they caused to other people." You try not to wiggle away and stay under him with how fragile his magic seems, so you're forced to look up at him as he stays hoisted over you. His hands are kept suspending the faint, magic veil, preventing the two of you from falling into the water. "If it makes ya feel any better, I'll let you in on a weakness I've got." 

He sits up on the veil and takes your arm again, trying to sit you down with him. You resist, waiting until he stands up and walks back to firm land for you to do the same. 

"My magic relies on Karma, meaning I couldn't possibly do you nor your kid any damage, if I even tried."

With him sounding so tired now, you can't decipher much over his change in tone. He has his back turned to you all the while, though his magic remains underneath you, still keeping you from falling into the water. His hands slip into his pockets and his veil disappears only after you climb out of it and make it back to stable ground. 

"If nobody does any damage, then nobody gets hurt. Simple as that. Your kid didn't hurt a fly goin' through the Underground, so even if I would've attempted to hurt them in any way, it wouldn't've had any effect."

You find it hard to believe him, yet follow along for the moment, eager to see where this would lead on to. "...So that means it doesn't work the same for all monsters?" You pause, considering his words and the abilities his younger brother had shown when play-fighting with Frisk the last time you picked them up at Toriel's home -- the day Frisk managed to convince you over continuing to be tutored by both Toriel and Sans alike. Thinking back on that day also brings back the memory of the gift Sans had given you, though you brush it off as quick as it comes to avoid being influenced by any of it.

Clearly, Papyrus was capable of attacking no matter what the circumstances were if he could use his magic to simply play around with Frisk, but then what about _him?_

What made _Sans_ the exception?

"What are you supposed to be, then?"

"That's a bit of a rude question, don't ya think?" He turns back to you, an amused glint present in his gaze and grin. "No offense, pal, but I'm tryna be patient with ya here. And you're makin' it hard by being so stubborn." He chuckles, winking at you. "Though I guess that makes sense, considerin' how determined Frisk is. Like parent like child, huh?" His gaze lingers on yours as he says that. "We'll hafta go to Hotland now to make that fiery attitude and hotness of yours match with the climate."

"...Did you just _wink_ at me?" You tense up, the lilt you catch in his words worsening your assumptions over that action. 

Of course, you'd seen Sans do that countless times before -- regardless of family, friend, or even yourself at certain times -- but his current tone and the subtle and upward, goofy curve to his grin makes it feel as if he's far from being friendly about it. "Oh, God. Are you hitting on me for _real_ now, Serif?"

Finally, for what once seemed like a skeleton too laid-back for his own good, he shows shock through the tense of a smile and the flicker of his irises. His posture turns awkward and confidence vanishes from it, only masked surprise remaining. 

"...What?" That's the only thing he manages to say, gaze landing on your hand, a ring found on it. "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_ there, pal," he blurts out, a chuckle bursting through, more nervous than humoured in comparison to past times. "Don't, uh, jump to conclusions so fast. I know Jerry's not in the picture anymore, and I dunno if you're seeing someone else right now, but..." He falls flat on his words, a hand going to the back of his skull, scratching it as a befuddled look overcomes him. "Are you? 'Cause ya found me out, if ya really _did_ think I was flirtin' for real now."

"I'm not seeing anyone," you reply, letting out a sigh as you bring a hand to your nose, massaging the bridge in search of calm. "But what made you think it was okay to try and flirt with me _now_ of all times, if I'm here barking at you like this? Sucking up to me won't erase my anger." You let go of your nose, forehead creasing as you take a quick breath in and chest tightening when you try to let your pride and grudges go, needing more humility for your next statement. "I'm eternally grateful your kind looked after Frisk while I wasn't there, but I just... I simply can't let things like what Asgore ordered to be done to my kind or even what Alphys supposedly did to her _own_ kind slip by. I know I'm still only just figuring stuff out, but if these rumours have some truth in them, I… I don't think I'll be able to let this go so easily."

"So you acknowledge you're overreactin' a lil'?"

"I'm not. I'm simply calling your kind out on their hypocrisy." 

Sans returns his hand back against his neck and stretches it; how restless he looks makes you believe he's close to running out of ways over getting back into good terms with you.

When he lets go and huffs, patience returns, though not nearly at the same level as when he first approached you about the subject. "Even so, I... I'd say you're still overthinkin' some stuff up. Tori didn't even say she wanted to keep Frisk's custody all for herself. She just wants to see the kid every once in a while -- like she's doin' right now."

Notwithstanding, you place your hands on your hips and refuse to let your scowl fall, your display of gratitude from earlier ago seemingly nowhere present anymore. "Say what you want, but I still think it's ridiculous I have to let this matter go just like that."

He rests his back against a nearby, rocky wall, gaze facing down and focusing on a puddle. "Have it your way, then. I still think Frisk should decide if they want to see us or not again. 'Cause at the end of it all, they proved themselves capable enough to free us from the Underground all by themselves, and that's enough for me to give them merit over their capabilities for a lifetime."

You don't say anything back and lay against the rock next to him, eyes landing on the waterfall and the river bubbling with its force.

While you knew it was unreasonable to prevent Frisk from seeing every monster around rather than a few of them, you refuse to give in anymore. Pride over being right in your judgement drowns every other sense of amiability. You had to stand your ground now that you'd gone this far; backing away would only show your weakness.

Silence keeps itself between you for some time, broken by him not long after your mind comes up with the idea of exploring the Underground on your own. Having him show you around didn't seem so fitting anymore. "So... You're really _not_ seeing anyone else? But then why the ring?"

His question takes you off guard, until you think back as far as three whole years ago, back when Frisk was still a toddler. They'd used two quarters to buy you a faux silver ring rather than the bubblegum they mentioned they wanted to try out; they gave it to you with as much pride as they did when telling you about a good grade or deed, and to quote, "It's to replace the one you had before!" -- 'one' referring to the one you stored away for emergency funds not long after ending things with Jerry. To this day, it's still right where you hid it -- and thankfully so. You hoped then and even now you still hope over never having to sell that ring away for funds; not because of any emotional attachment whatsoever, but due to you wanting to strive your best in order for Frisk to live a good life.

It's almost a vital part of you now, and -- hadn't Sans asked you about it -- you wouldn't've acknowledged it to such an extent.

You quirk a brow as you give thought to his question -- sounding genuine despite how blatant it is -- and find it difficult to answer despite how long it's been. Caught on a weak spot, you cross your arms and look away the second you meet with his irises, beyond embarrassed. "Frisk, um... Frisk gave it to me as a gift -- some time after my divorce."

"Ah." It's almost as if you can feel when his posture tenses again, a strain present in that sole sound he lets out. "Sorry 'bout asking."

Again, he sounds earnest, though you're not about to befriend your antagonist. "It's alright. But please don't try to flirt my anger away ever again."

A more brazen look takes him over, and you can only brace yourself for whatever he plans to say next, his intent on pissing you off clearly set on high. You engage in a staring contest as you wait, arms now crossed in a more defiant manner -- firm over your chest. If the monster said you were stubborn, by the Sky above, you would stay true to it. If he was set on teasing you to such an extent, you would do the same, multiplied by ten. An easy fight was in no way an honourable one.

"Enemies to lovers is a thing, though."

"Only in low-quality romcoms."


	17. Chapter Nine | Dating Tense! (Part 1 of 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: 'Hey, (mami/papi)' or 'Sans acts like a Latin American f*ckboy'.

Week two into clearing out the air between you and Frisk's monster friends arrives much faster than you would like.

With all the pent-up frustration you'd let out during the first half of your tour and how you ended up postponing the other half prematurely precisely due to that, you don't really want to visit Toriel's home anymore. Even if she _did_ invite you over for a chat at her place back when you were still at the hospital, and even if you _did_ tell her you would set up a date with her soon, you assume she's already long forgotten about that promise, and the mere thought of asking her where she lives now that she's moved on from an apartment to a house is far too much for you. 

**Are you available today?**

**I would like to fulfill what I promised you at the hospital, if so.**

**If not, do let me know when you are free.**

**Here is the new address.**

**> > Attachment - 1 image**

**If you are not certain over how to make it here, I can gladly pick you up during your lunch break, or after you have clocked out of work.**

**Or I can ask another person to help you get there.**

**Just make sure you do not eat anything before visiting, so I can prepare either lunch or dinner for you and everyone else here, depending on when you arrive.**

**Take care. ]:)**

But, of course -- and as fate would have it -- she'd sent you a string of messages first thing in the morning today. 

She'd even sent you a picture with her new address, detailed to such a point where you really wish -- now that you see who the person is -- you _hadn't_ agreed with her on having someone help you find her new home.

"Jump in," Sans says, opening the front passenger door of what you can only assume is Papyrus's car based on the stories Frisk told you about him. "We'll make it there in less than an hour -- just in time for you to make it back to work later."

Between Toriel's sudden message, what happened back at Waterfall, the cloudy weather rushing you to make a decision, and just who's the person the goat lady's entrusted to help you out, it's almost impossible for you not to stress any more than you have already.

You're still too worked up over what was revealed to you at Waterfall, and you still can't shake off the extreme caution you've now built around the same person meant to keep you safe in the first place, as far as having to remind yourself _not_ to be as on-edge as you'd been the time he tried to console you when you started tearing up back at the Ruins.

That reminder makes you look at the monster again, though without a friendly tone or look present, mind once again fueled by your urgent need to put up a front around him.

"What makes you think I'll hitch a ride from you _now_ of all times?" you ask, remaining in place. "And with questionable music, to top it all off."

While you're usually not one to make shallow judgements based on personal taste, you can't ignore how obvious he's being with you right now. There's a bell of warning ringing at the back of your head with the low rumble and suggestive beat of the [song](https://youtu.be/ttuBhXchAxQ) playing on the radio, and his beyond relaxed driving pose. Only one hand's on the wheel, and the other's hung over the open window. He's either pretending, or he's for real about his attitude, something hard to tell after ending your tour with him at the Underground. 

"C'mon, pal. We know our names, met a whole month ago, and you know some of my past to more detail now, don't ya? I'd say we're still acquaintances, at the very least."

"I'm afraid I'll still have to refuse." You cross your arms and point with your gaze at the minivan parked not far behind him. "I've got my own car to drive in. I can follow behind you."

The skeleton's gaze follows yours, and his grin almost stretches when he gets a good look at where you're pointing at. "A minivan?" His irises light up and he snickers, a rumble similar to the song's leaving him. "You really _are_ a parent at heart, huh?" His irises move on back to you, and you further shield yourself with the cross of your arms when you see he's now eyeing you up and down, a different light flaring in his gaze. "Don't think I've said this before, but you've got the looks of one, too." He winks. "And this's probably a bit off-topic and a whole lot personal, but... Has Frisk told you why they ran away yet, or are they still keepin' quiet about it? Jerry aside, you sound n' act like a good parent, as far as I've gotten to know you."

Sans hits another weak spot, one you try to mask by showing anger on your face, using the excuse of him having checked you out. "I doubt I should answer that to a guy who's just looked me up and down." You form a scowl, persisting. "You really have no shame left in you anymore, do you? If you hadn't been so honest with me at the hospital, I would've assumed you've got experience trying to woo people over -- even if you're not that good at it, in reality."

He grins and later shrugs; the arm hung over the window slips back inside the car and lowers the volume some. "Well, what can I say, pal? Ya don't wanna be acquaintances, ya don't wanna be friends, and you're set on me being your enemy ever since the tour. The only thing I've got left's to try flirtin' with you."

"You really _don't_." You huff and let your arms fall back to their rightful place, self-consciousness showing when you see his irises follow your movements. "Are you _that_ intent on pissing me off from now on? Stop staring at me like that."

"If I stop, will ya try to listen? I just wanna help you and your kid out."

Humour vanishes from his skull; the serious note to his words is then augmented when he makes eye contact with you, music now low enough not to distract you anymore. "Fine." You look back to your car. "But I won't ride with you. I… I don't trust you enough to be all alone with you anymore." You pause and avoid any further eye contact, crossing your arms again when you feel too exposed from his earlier staring.

Being a full-time office worker and single parent, topped off with having to do almost all the chores around the house, meant little to no time for yourself, which in turn meant self-care was scarce -- a factor that tripled when Frisk ran away, made worse with how you coped with their absence. Barely eating anything throughout the day to later drown out your sorrows with the least healthy food there was late in the night -- mostly microwavable to avoid having to cook only for yourself -- had left an imprint on your body and health alike, and it shows to this day. Even if you were starting to get your social life back together and even if you were little-by-little going back to a better and healthier lifestyle, you were still far from being as active as you once were before Frisk went missing. The once natural huskiness and pudginess of your physique was something, but ignoring how that amount doubled over the past few months, how you lost what once used to be good stamina, and how you have stress acne all over your face is a whole different thing in its entirety.

This man was seeing the downright worse self you could possibly show to the world right now, both in terms of emotional and physical health. How he apparently gained a crush on you over the past month is an anomaly you rather _wouldn't_ want to find an answer for currently.

"(Y/N)?"

You look towards the skeleton when he calls out for you, a bit off-put by him using your name. Truth be told, you'd already grown used to him calling you 'pal' or (L/N). Any other name besides those main two felt strange coming from his teeth. "You good?" he asks, a subtle furrow present on his skull. "You've been spacin' off for a while now."

"I'm good," you reply, careful not to let your voice break. It's not until you see him wipe the car door with his jacket's sleeve that you notice rain's began to fall, tainting the inside -- a cause of him having left the window open. "...You should close the window, Serif. I'll follow behind in my car."

"Ride with me." There's not a trace of humour left in him, though you still find it hard getting to take him seriously. "I promise I won't bother you 'til we get to Tori's."

"I still can't." You step back, eyes looking off towards the passenger door to see it left ajar, kept somewhat protected by the rain, yet still in wait for you. "Sorry, but I.... I really _can't_." Already feeling your work uniform starting to stick, you reach out for your bag and take a mini-umbrella out, shielding yourself from the rain with it. "Thanks for the offer, and for the tour last weekend, but I simply can't ignore how you looked at me just a second ago, and how you've been acting with me recently."

* * *

With how heavy the rain gets, you can barely see when the monster takes a turn to the left, forcing you to take a detour to the emergency lane and suck up a cry of frustration. 

Of course, accepting a ride in his car would've been much easier than all this, but then what about your integrity as a person? 

Some monsters were reported to have caused Frisk harm, one of them in particular said to have been a literal, killer robot, programmed by none other than Alphys, the same monster responsible for hurting her own kind through means of inhumane experiments. 

So if that was the case, who knew what that skeleton could be up to? 

Whether jokingly or not, you were far from trusting over his demeanor and were in no means wanting to leave Frisk under the care of him, Papyrus, Toriel, or anyone else anymore. After all, your ex-husband left the second he deemed himself too irresponsible to look after a child. So who's to say an utter stranger belonging to another species wouldn't do the same, or worse?

"I'm sorry to say this, but we're gonna have to stop here."

Once again caught daydreaming, you look to your left, the monster's muffled voice made more audible when you lower the window only slightly, keeping the rain outside. "It'll be hard gettin' anywhere with how strong it's pourin'." 

Sans is pretty much drenching himself, though your urge to let him in your car is held back when you question yourself over it. You chew on your lip as you think it through, clicking the switch the second after you scold yourself over your straight-up awful manners recently. "Get inside," you exclaim, huffing. "Don't just soak yourself for me!" 

Without waiting, you turn your back to him and reach out for the seat next to yours, opening up the front passenger door for him to pass by and closing it the second he's in.

"Wouldn't've happened if you'd just hitched a ride off of me. Or unblocked my number, at least."

"As _if_."

His breathing's scarce, and your questions over why he hadn't chosen to use magic similar to last time are answered to you when you remember what he said about Karma. 

"Use this." You offer out a towel to him, one you retrieve from within Frisk's leftover school supplies at the back of the car. "Why would you drive all the way back, park your car behind mine, and then get down from it even though it's pouring, all just to talk to me? Haven't I given off enough signs about us? Don't do this for me, Serif. I... I appreciate all your help, but I can handle this from here on out."

You find it hard not to stare when he slips off his jacket and throws it on his lap, revealing a bulky build despite him being a skeleton. He's soaked from head to toe, yet he pays little to no mind to it and takes the towel from your hands, patting it over himself a few times. "You done starin', pal?"

"How are you so… big-boned? I thought that was just your jacket adding extra bulkiness to you!" You look away when you realize just how plain and awfully rude you've been. It doesn't help when you remind yourself he's drenched because of you. "That was rude of me," you say, sighing. "I'm sorry." A strain takes over your chest and a frown accompanies it. "What I meant to say is, well…" You breathe out a sigh. "Why are you so… _husky_? Is that normal for skeleton monsters?"

"Just as normal as it is for you to have love handles. Didn't really notice the first few times we met, but you've gotta real (mom/dad) bod, if I do say so myself. Your work uniform kinda brings that out more."

You face him with wide eyes and keep your distance from him by scooting away, once more stricken by how much he's changed in so short of a time. What was once a level-headed and decent guy was turning out to be a much more brazen one -- a jerk, not so much yet, but boy, was he starting to cross a few boundaries every now and then. "So it's… _not_?"

"It's normal." He chuckles, honesty present in the subtle, hearty rumble of his laughter. "...You sayin' it ain't normal for you to have those? 'Cause Human Anatomy's taught me it is. Even more so if you're a single parent, since time's scarce and stress's more than bountiful. Don't really expect you to have your ex's six-pack abs if you're takin' up pretty much all the responsibilities of raising a family by yourself."

"Wh-" You ignore everything he's said and instead reply with, "...Why do you call them that, anyway? You know the scientific term for them if that's the case, don't you?"

"I do, but I kinda like calling 'em that more," he says. "It's a cute name for 'em."

If this was another way of him getting to try to flirt with you more, it was the weakest and most awful attempt yet. Whether he was joking or not didn't matter anymore, your desire to have him out of your life increasing with each second he spends inside your car. "You sure have plenty of guts for a skeleton, you know that? Never in my life would've I imagined someone would bring that up in a conversation." You sigh, breathe back in, and turn the air conditioner down a notch, annoyance helping further contrast the cold of the rain. "Are you alright with the cold, Serif? I know you lived at Snowdin, so I'm not sure if you're uncomfortable or not, but... I lowered it since you got rained on."

"Warmin' up to me already, pal?"

You throw another towel at the skeleton, and a scowl returns to your face. "Ask that again, and I'll kick you out for sure this time."

He laughs, taking the towel and draping it over his shoulders. "Duly noted."

  
  


* * *

  
  


With the rain forcing you to start up any means of conversation with the monster, you suck up your pride and unblock his number half an hour into your wait for the sky to calm down.

"I might have just enough energy to drive us there without havin' to wait so much for it to clear up," he comments, breaking the ice when you let him know he can call and text you again. "But I'm gonna have to take the wheel from here on."

Letting him drive is by far crossing the thick and neon line you've drawn between him and yourself, yet you can't exactly rule out his reasoning behind it. Before you can spell a 'why' in protest, he continues, preventing you from interrogating him again, "My normal magic's strong enough for small tasks, so I can try casting a veil over the windshield, kinda like how I did the last time you almost fell into the river."

It makes sense, though you hesitate, pride further shrunken when you realize you didn't exactly thank Sans for last time. "Won't it tire you out?"

"A lil', yeah. But it's better than waitin' some more, and I can just sleep that off as soon as we get to Tori's."

You face the wheel, reluctant to let go. "...Are you sure? But then what about your car?"

He nods. "It's already parked n' locked. We can think about that later."

Facing the rain, you bite on your lip and consider the options: either stay here for what you assume will be another hour alone with the skeleton, or agree with him and get to Toriel's on time. The meeting you have at work returns to your mental to-do list, influencing your thoughts on what decisions to make.

Sans was offering to help you out, but at what cost?

Would he bring it all up later and make mention of how much you owed him?

And then again, hadn’t he been obnoxious enough with his flirting for you to have a counter-argument about it? 

Whatever his reasons were for having offered to show you around the Underground with as much patience as he displayed and help you meet with Frisk’s monster friends -- going as far as to drive you to Toriel's new place by himself -- you truly _don’t_ have time to delay anymore; the pending meeting is sufficient to remind you of that. As a result, you backtrack on your stubbornness, sighing out your frustration and letting go of the wheel after. “Thank you.” Glancing at the back of the car and later back at him, you give him another look of warning before speaking up again, “Back away first,” you say, lips a firm line. “If you're gonna move over to the wheel, you're _way_ too close for what I’m about to do.”

"Sure." He grins, scooting away. “Whatever ya want, pal.”

You eye him over again, making sure he’s distant enough for you to move to the back; no way you were getting an inch closer to him physically. The proximity from his seat to your own is more than abundant already.

When you're certain he's not looking at -- or anywhere near -- you, you slip one careful step after the other into the backseat as best as you can. Caution over not letting him take a look at your _derrière_ or anywhere else deems your movements clumsy. Your foot almost slips, though you catch yourself, resulting in a not-so graceful land, face hitting the seats.

“You can move over now," you say once sitting up straight. You fix your clothing and look back to the front of the car when you’re done. “I’m not doing that again with you around, so I’ll just stay here for the rest of the ride.” While you notice his irises have been gazing out at the rain thus far, you don’t exactly rule out the possibility of him having slipped in a look on you while you were moving to the back. Simply confiding the monster with your car was ample trust for one single day. Having given your back to him in the most _literal_ sense possible was exceeding it.

“Noted,” he replies, laughing. “But don’t sweat it. If you’re worried about me ogling you, I only saw you climb over to the backseat, and nothin’ else. I don’t like lookin' at people that way.”

“Didn’t you do that barely a few hours ago, though?”

“I was mostly just distracted by how… _different_ you look in your work uniform. Real different from your casual self, I'd say."

You face him with stern eyes, unamused. “Oh, that’s all, I’m sure." You scoff. "Dunno what's your type, but I've got to be the only human you've talked with so far if you've _seriously_ got a crush on me."

"Why's that?"

"Haven't you seen me at my ugliest? I doubt I looked anywhere near attractive the day after I fainted."

"Last time I checked, a hospital's not a catwalk, ain't it?" He grins. "And who says I'm not into you? You're still a PILF, as far as my tastes go."

"What's that mean?" you ask, quirking a brow.

"An abbreviation for 'Person/Parent I'd Like to be Friends with'."

You're sitting straight on the backseat now, hands folded over your lap as you look to the windshield, distracting yourself away from his gaze. Worry over the rain not picking up makes you wonder if Frisk’s doing okay in Toriel's new home, and just what they could be up to with her and the rest of their monster friends. “Were you always _this_ shameless and keeping that hidden? Or am I a special case for you?”

He winks and grabs the wheel without breaking his irises away from you, now staring at you from the rearview mirror. “Whatever you think it to be.” It doesn’t take more than another hostile look from your part for his smile to tense up again, irises almost appearing to do the same. “Damn." He whistles, looking away and grabbing the wheel tighter. “You’re a tough cookie, pal."

"Yes, and I have my reasons for it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To older readers or those curious about the old version of this fanfic:
> 
> As you may have noticed, we're beginning to fall into the chapters of the old version, meaning that -- for those who're waiting for the continuation of the old plot (but improved upon in terms of writing style, flow, and depth, among other things) -- it will appear around the 3rd Arc/Chapter Twenty-Six of this new version.
> 
> With that being said, any suggestions to improve are welcomed (as that's what made me write up a new version and improve upon the old one), whether old reader or not!


	18. Chapter Nine | Dating Tense! (Part 2 of 3)

Though your sense of amiability and acumen have warped themselves since last weekend, you feel some of that patience and kindness return when Toriel greets you into her new home, the scent of food and her smile soothing whatever anger you had prior to ringing her doorbell.

Sans gestures for you to go ahead first despite him being the most familiar with her and the most affected by the rain, but you persist in your manners and tell him to go change out of his clothes first and foremost. Though they're now dry from how long it's been since he got rained on, it's still evident and necessary for him to change out of them with how tired and disheveled he looks, wrinkled up clothes, slouched posture, and a tired gaze combining to make him look sleep-deprived. “I have a change of clothes in my car,” you say, offering him an abashed smile. “It’s a work uniform and probably a little too big for you, but…” You trail off and feel your face turn warm; remembering all his failed attempts at flirting with you doesn’t help with your situation. “You can still use them, if you want to.”

“It’s cool.” He keeps a neutral expression despite noticing how reluctant you'd acted with him just now, levels different from how you were with him back in your car. “I’m here pretty often, so I’ve gotta change of clothes or two stocked up. And I also gotta go pick up Papyrus first, so I’ll just freshen up after I’m done with that."

"You should still shower and change first." You frown at the thought of him driving out in the rain again, without rest or care over himself. "It doesn't matter if you dried off or not! You'll get sick if you don't take care of yourself first." You give him your car keys, your umbrella, and take off the suit of your uniform, giving him all three items as you add, “Ditch the jacket and wear this once you’re done freshening up.”

“Thanks,” he says after a while, voice quiet and gaze barely capable of looking straight at you without faltering. “But the keys ain’t really necessary. I can use my-”

“I insist.” You push the keys further into his hand, making him hold yours for just a second before you pull away. “Now go.”

* * *

The first thing Toriel gives you after Sans drives off in your car is a big hug and a firm hold on your shoulders, eyes facing yours with concern. "How… How are you feeling?" she asks, smile changing for a faint frown as she lets go and gestures for you to pass through. Your persistence on not doing that until you were sure Sans followed your suggestions had led to some small talk between you and her while you waited, but only talking about everyday matters and without being nowhere near as personal as she’s being with you right now, whatever concerns she’d been having since your hospitalization showing up now. "Lunch is ready, if you would like to eat now!"

How considerate she's being makes you regret the thought of bringing up the topic you discussed with Sans regarding her once wanting to adopt Frisk. You don't want to point fingers nor hurry into it yet, but there's something about her telling you she'd just finished picking Frisk early due to the stormy weather and that they’re currently sleeping at a bedroom made especially for them that makes jealousy spike within you. The thought of her being a better parent than you makes your stomach queasy and weakens your once tolerant mindset along with the strength of the promise you made of hearing the monsters' perspective before making any rash or abrupt decisions.

"There's no rush," you reply, smiling at her. "I can wait. I'm feeling okay, and I think it would be better if we all ate together instead.” 

You enter her home, welcomed by a near replica of her old one at the Ruins -- a great contrast from her former, minimalist apartment. Her new place is just as big as the one at the Underground, and with a similar colour scheme of mostly beiges and yellows, too. The only difference is the layout and furniture of the living room, decorated with two large couches and a small television, but even then the compact kitchen and the hallway leading off to more rooms seem similar to her old home. 

You sit down with her and toy with the sleeve of your shirt as you try to bring yourself to say something before engaging in any other, friendlier conversation with her -- beyond your small talk about how she and Frisk were doing while you were busy with work. "Would it be…" You hesitate; fear over being tactless makes you bite back your tongue. "Would it be alright with you to talk about something, well… kind of personal?” you ask, meeting her eyes. “The tour last weekend left me with some doubts, so I'd like to clear them out, if possible."

She looks at you with furrowed brows and a small smile, as if you’ve asked her something obvious. “Of course it’s fine, (L/N),” she replies, shifting closer to you as she lays a hand over yours, hers fluffy and much warmer in comparison to a human’s. “What is it? Is it about what-”

Your talk is postponed before it can even begin properly, whatever she was about to ask you held back as you both move your attention to the new and old faces that enter the living room.

Papyrus is here, along with Sans, who -- clearly telling the truth about how weak his magic was when unprovoked -- now looks as exhausted as you often felt after a long shift at work. Even so, he doesn’t let that stop him from walking to your side and giving you your keys and suit jacket back. “Thanks for lendin’ me your car, pal,” he says, almost wobbling when he takes a step back. “Have you talked that stuff out with Tori yet?”

“Not yet,” you say, smile fading and forehead scrunching up when you get a better look at how different he seems compared to barely a while ago. “But should you _really_ be worrying about that right now? You look exhausted!” You frown when you notice he looks twice -- if not, thrice -- as worse as he did when leaving to go find Papyrus. The time on your phone states it hasn’t even been thirty minutes since he drove off, so you wonder if he’d used any additional magic to make his trip shorter along the way.

“I’ll be fine. Just needa sleep a lil’ and I’ll be good as-”

Cards reversed, it’s now your turn to catch him when he stumbles again.

Before he can even say something in objection to your actions, you carry him off to the couch across from the one you and Toriel were sitting on and lay him there. “Rest for a bit.” You press the back of your hand against his cheekbone and check his temperature, felt considerably low compared to how warm he was on the few occasions when you hugged each other. “A shower and a change of clothes won’t do you any good if you don’t rest.”

"Didn't think I'd be gettin' my own, personal doctor today," he comments, returning to his brazen self despite how tired his voice sounds.

"Now's not the time for that, bonehead." You glare at him and press him back down when he tries to sit up. "Sleep, or I'll knock you unconscious _myself_."

Thankfully, he doesn't push further and does as told, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Try as you might, it becomes impossible for the good mood left behind since arriving at Toriel's place to stay intact.

Having nothing left to do but wash dishes and later wait for the rain to clear up made you gather the needed courage to ask her over _that_ particular subject, yet you’re pretty sure you came off as rash at one point in beginning with the conversation. _“Why did you want to adopt Frisk without knowing if they had fallen intentionally or not? And why didn’t you ask them if they had a family waiting for them_ ** _before_** _they went on a journey and broke the Barrier?”_ were reasonable and simple enough questions, though there was much left to be said about your tone and you adding, _“Do you know how… how_ ** _awful_** _it felt when I was told you wanted to take them as your child, at one point?”_

Three hours.

Only three hours into arriving at her new home, and yet your relationship with her was already becoming about as tense as Sans’s after your nearly ten hour long tour.

"I did not intend to take Frisk away from you, and I would have never asked them that, had I known they were missing you just as much as you were," the goat lady says, a smile showing through, though made pained by the furrow in her brow and teary eyes. "But I would still like to keep seeing them, if you allow me to." She breathes in. "And now that you require a babysitter, I can and would gladly continue to look after them while you work. They are very dear to me, and I cannot bear to never see them again." She breathes sharply again, holding back her gloom through those means. "I understand you may not trust us, but please _do_ get to know us before you make your judgment, and perhaps then you will… understand we only want what's best for you and your child."

_Calm down._

That’s a phrase you continue to repeat to yourself before opening your mouth again.

Nonetheless, you fail in doing that and come back at her with, "And couldn't you think like that back when your kind decided to attack them -- wanting what's best instead of letting them go alone, just like that?" You cross your arms tight and dismiss any thoughts about your missed meeting once more, too caught up with the current situation to give mind to your job. "I was told many of your kind attacked Frisk for little to no reason. And then I decided to ask about what that sentry job implied, and I find out Sans was actually meant to _kill_ any human who crossed him?" You try not to let your voice grow loud, yet thoughts over losing Frisk and the desperation you went through searching for them all around the map make you livid. You're tearing up yourself, yet you prove unable to compose yourself like Toriel does, letting these stain your cheeks. "You expect me to _trust_ a guy like him, when all that kept him from killing my child was Karma and a… a supposed _promise_ he made to someone else? Do you expect me to trust him when- when he could've done the same to me, or anyone else of my kind? How can you expect me to stay calm, when your kind acted badly in their own way?"

You're full-on crying now, pent-up worries of the days you spent on a relentless, fruitless search over Frisk almost making you wobble to the ground; your wit and sheer want to be strong are what prevent you from showing it. You cover your face with your hands while guilt and doubts enter your mind. Your knees are frail, though some of that stress is let out through a heavy huff, and your hands let go when you compose yourself more. "I thought Frisk hated me, a- and that's why they ran off." You feel a hand place itself right on top of your head, careful yet attempting to soothe you further. "I thought I'd done something wrong, or that I… That I failed as a parent. But then…” You shudder the next time you breathe out. “Then Brenda calls me and says something important happened. And- And next thing I know, Frisk shows up in the news!"

While the current hand is fluffy, the next one causes you to jolt back up into guard. Its bony feel on your shoulder makes you shake it off and face the one responsible with cold, narrowed eyes. 

When you see it's Papyrus, you hold back and face him with gentler eyes, a frown replacing your anger. "I'm thankful for what you all did to look after Frisk while I wasn't around, but I still can't… I really still _can't_ overlook what Asgore wanted to do to my kind, or what he ordered Sans and... and other monsters to do." You breathe in, chest heaving and shuddering again when letting that same breath out. “H- Hate me if you will, but I... I need time to understand the reasons behind all of this."

Too weak to stand any longer, Papyrus takes note of that himself and helps you off to the couch, where Sans still rests at. His usage of what little magic he had left in him shows through how slumped his sitting posture is and how his eye sockets are half-lidded as he tries not to fall asleep. He straightens and scoots away, leaving you with more than plenty of space for you to sit down beside him.

"(L/N)," the taller one says, keeping a hand on your shoulder and bringing you to stare at him. "We do not hate you. What we want is for you to hear us out and understand we mean no harm any longer." He pulls back, gaze knitted as sympathy shows on his smile. "I was once meant to capture any human who crossed on over to Snowdin, and as you said, Sans was meant to… to end them." He stops, smile fading. "So your worry and panic are understandable. I do not expect you to forgive and forget, but I _do_ ask you to please listen to what we have to say and try to understand the rather… _complicated_ relationship humans and monsters used to have."

It’s been more than an hour since your meeting ended, yet the rain's still pouring strong and the news station left to play on the television is already reporting over nearby routes being flooded by what now has to be a tropical storm. Frisk is still sleeping in the goat lady's bedroom, helping make the situation a bit easier for you to manage with. Though -- at the thought of being stuck with the monsters for what you assume is going to be a long, long while -- you sigh, trying to regain both strength and calm alike. 

"Been rainin' a lot since we left the Underground," Sans comments, a tired slur to his words. He's changed the topic completely, helping you with the process. "Think this's really connected to us? A lotta people've been blamin' monsters for it."

"I think it's silly they'd blame you for it," you reply, finding more ease in the topic. "There was a heavy drought not long before Frisk fell to the Underground, so I think it was to expect we'd have even heavier rains soon." Surprisingly, he offers you a napkin, avoiding the touch of hands by pulling away as quickly as his magic-worn state allows him to. "Thank you." You pat at your tears and wipe your face clean, stopping when you hear muffled laughter coming from him.

"...What?" you ask, facing the skeleton with a raised brow.

That only makes him break down more, though he contains himself to reply with, "Nothin'."

You hear Papyrus huff and see him stand next to you. He offers a mirror out to you, something you reject when you tell him you have one with you. "Sans, now's not the time for this!" he exclaims, hands on his hips. "You'll never gain (L/N)’s trust if you continue to disrupt every _single_ opportunity you have for it!"

While listening to their argument, you see Toriel's sadness vanish right on par with yours. You look at yourself in the mirror, holding back a laugh of your own when you see two large circles surrounding your eyes, with a colour blatantly opposite to the (s/t) shade(s) of your skin. It makes you look similar to a panda, though you try not to appear humoured by it. 

"Frisk fell for that at the Underground," Sans comments, snickering when his brother finally stops scolding him. "And now you." His grin widens, posture straightening more and tiredness being replaced with merriment. "I've said it once and I'll say it again: like parent, like child." 

Whatever form of retaliation you're about to direct at Sans is stopped when you see the door of the living room slam open, in entering two women, and both soaked from head to toe. Alphys is the first one you recognize at a quick glance while the taller one takes you longer to distinguish with how little you knew about her still. Neither of the two seem bothered over being drenched, Undyne being the one who grins and sighs in relief, later commenting about how refreshing the rain feels. Alphys takes in the feeling for some time, though she removes her lab coat and shoes, wringing herself out before stepping into the living room. When the other woman's done, her eye falls on you, immediately growing as her smile does the same, sharp teeth baring themselves in excitement.

"Is that the one you told me about, Alph?" she asks, voice booming throughout the house. "You're right. They're just like Frisk described them to us, and just as cute as those pictures on the news!"

You hear Sans hiss out an 'ooh', and hear him speak right after with a muttered, "Bad move, Undyne."

He's not wrong.

Having experienced more than enough of Sans's flirting for the past few days, hearing yet another monster comment over you in a flattering manner is unwelcomed. Consequently, you stand up and face the two with your trademark pose: frowning, brow narrowed, and with your arms firmly crossed. "Nice to meet you, miss Undyne." You spare a look at Alphys, who jolts at the intensity of your stare. "My name is (Y/N) (L/N), Frisk's primary care parent. Though I'm sure you know that already." You offer a hand out to her, reminding yourself to be polite. "I believe I have questions as to why you thought it acceptable to chase my child at the Underground, even when they were deemed to have caused no harm to your kind."

She takes your hand, and a more serious look takes her over when she nods. "I'm afraid that was a job assigned to me for being part of the Royal Guard, (miss/mister) (L/N)."

You shake her hand, nodding back. "And _I'm_ afraid you'll have to explain that to me then, miss Undyne.” You take a pause. “Apologies for being so quick about this, but I… I want nothing but the best for Frisk, and so I still have to get to know their monster friends better to understand what this is all about." 

When the handshake's over, you both take a step back, facing each other with stern gazes. "In the end, I believe it's my right as a parent to decide whether or not it's safe for Frisk to keep being friends with you." You pause, reflect, and make sure to add your next comment, wanting to be clear with everyone around you, "And not because of your race, but because of your actions."


	19. Chapter Nine | Dating Tense! (Part 3 of 3)

Your conversation with Undyne goes a similar route as with Toriel's: confronting a stranger in the name of protecting the one you held most dear, as a result ending whatever possible, friendly connections you could've likely formed with her right from the start -- without that complex context placed between you. Seeing everyone as your enemy is draining at its least, but the reward you visualize for everyone ahead makes it all seem worth it. That thought alone provides with strength to keep pushing forward, and even more so when you remind yourself over obtaining a possible happy ending of your very own, were you to resolve this situation with the monsters first.

With that thought in mind, you set the empty teacup down on the coffee table and take a deep breath in, preparing yourself to continue with the conversation. You're already halfway through the most difficult process with Undyne, so backing away now would be useless; thankfully, the tea has enough chamomile in it for you to quell your anger and turn it into sobriety, instead. Of course, that sounds way easier than it is, but -- compared to how you felt when talking with Toriel -- it's a difference as large as the distance between the sky and Earth. Keeping in mind all the kindness and patience you've been shown throughout the process helps with that, as well.

You stand up, continuing with, "I understand protecting the Underground was your priority, but…" You stop to breathe again. "Why… Why would you attack without waiting to see what Frisk had to say? If you were informed enough to know there was a human running free in the Underground, then couldn't you have known they weren't causing any harm, in the first place?"

Despite the tea, its effects and your subsequent calm don't last long. Frustration keeps you from staying in one, sole place without fidgeting, so you let energy out through a composed, back-and-forth pace across the living room. You stop for a second and face down at Undyne, who keeps herself seated, eye meeting with your gaze. "How many of those six souls were murdered, and…" Your breath hitches. "And how many of them were genuine, self-sacrifices? I… I wouldn't be so angry, if you were just honest with me and told me how many human lives were taken away without their honest approval, and exactly how many of them sacrificed their lives for you, in the end."

At the thought of Frisk, still selfless towards plenty of things based on how young they were and the education they received -- both at home and at school -- you keep your posture straight, eager to say more. "And was there really no other solution than taking those souls? If… If Frisk saved your kind without having to give up their own life for it, then why did all this happen? Why… Why did _six_ people have to die before a different solution could come around?" A pause and a sigh help you recollect your thoughts. "Or were they threatening the lives of your kind? 'Cause that makes a lot more sense than simply taking away the soul of the first human you saw, no matter their age, background, or intentions."

Undyne still stays silent for a while even after you're done, eye now cast down at the floor as she frowns and her hands hold onto her knees. "...Well," she says, trailing off with a sigh. "I was only ordered to chase after whatever human I crossed paths with." She lifts her gaze from the floor while a hand toys around with the scales on her neck, distracting herself from you. "It wasn't every day a human would fall down there, so we were eventually ordered to, well... _kill_ whatever human _did_ happen to end there… Indiscriminately." Finally, she makes eye contact with you, frown quivering as she takes another quick pause. "According to what we were told, it had been years since a human last fell down, so when Frisk arrived, I... I just sought after them without thinking twice."

"But if _that_ many years passed by, couldn't your kind look for another solution? If… If Alphys built a new body for her friend out of nothing but scraps, and with two different forms -- mind you -- then... Then couldn't another scientist on similar or equal terms of knowledge have done something about all this? Why wait so long, if… if all it took was a _child_ to find another solution for you?" Your voice breaks and your ire finally snaps with, "Where's your sense of justice? Or does it only apply when it's convenient?"

She notices the change herself, though she doesn't flinch nor retaliate; neutrality is her only reaction as she replies with, "(L/N), in all honesty, I…" Undyne stops, facing down again as her grimace deepens, sorrow dampening her eye. "I'm... I'm not sure how to answer that." 

Seeing you've reached a dead end, you glance over towards Alphys, who tries to look away, failing when you call out her name. "What about you, Doctor Alphys? Was there really no other thought in mind other than waiting for the next prey to arrive? Was there truly no…" Your breathing grows scarce, hinting at you losing your grip on the intensity of your emotions again. "Was there truly no other option than for us to be enemies? For your kind and mine to… to simply keep up with the damage our ancestors made and left behind?"

Alphys is shaking, yet you stay unfazed, only lessening your level of intimidation by uncrossing your arms and looking away from her, giving her some space and time to reply. 

"I'm n- not sure what to say, either, but… Y- You do have a point." She wrings her hands, her shaking attempting to compose itself through that. "But… As a f- former scientist of the Underground, I wasn't told much over what the rules were. One of the few things that I took part on was in... in creating Mettaton's new body." Her hands unwind, shoulders copying them. "I... I know he was programmed to k- kill humans, but like you mentioned: he was my friend before any of that happened, and so he already had a life and consciousness before I made that new version of him. It- It just so happened that I… I modified a few things so that he could-"

Her words are interrupted as Frisk walks into the living room, still sleepy-eyed. They rub their eyes with the sleeve of their shirt, and a frown presents itself when they take a good look at the scene before them. 

_"What's wrong?"_ they sign, expression furrowed.

They take in everything around them, letting their face lose tension when their gaze moves on over to you, encouraging them to approach you. _"You're here!"_ Frisk grabs your hand, taking a look at the time on your watch. Then, they raise an eyebrow, letting you go to continue with, _"You didn't go to work today? Or did you leave early?"_

You smile, let your guard fall, and bring them into your arms, holding them up. "The streets got flooded, so I couldn't go anymore after lunchtime," you say, kissing their cheek. "How've you been, though? Did you have fun at miss Toriel's new place? I've been here since twelve, but you were sleeping, so I didn't want to wake you."

They grin, nodding as they bring their arms firm around your neck, hugging you close. "I had fun." You tense a little at the sound of their voice despite there being more people besides Toriel, Brenda, or you around; how often selective mutism kept them from saying things out loud in front of other people made their voice a rare thing to hear in public, no matter how small the crowd was. It's only when they're alone with you or people of trust that they have the courage to speak up out loud -- a rare case was Frisk being capable of talking with Bubbles regardless of them having met him only once so far, yet you dismiss that one as them having simply gotten along well with him right from the start, rather than associating it with them truly forgiving you and wanting to defend you, as a result. "A- Are you gonna stay here, then? It's raining a lot!"

"I believe they have no other choice, dear," Toriel intervenes, easing out the tension left from your earlier conversation, still unfinished. 

She arrives next to you; a set of clothes are held out in her hands, these neatly folded and accompanied by some soap, a towel, and a roll-on deodorant. "(L/N) was waiting for the skies to clear up, but the rain and the floods have made it near impossible for any of us to leave this house." You set Frisk down and take the clothes, surprised to see a set of pajamas similar to Toriel's clothing style, and even some (men/women)'s underwear tucked underneath all the other items -- and unused based on the size tag still attached to it. "I am not sure if these sizes will fit you, but those clothes are all spares I keep stored away for guests." She lowers her voice and gets closer to you. "The undergarments are new, of course." She giggles, winking at you afterwards. "The bathroom is upstairs, if you would like to shower now."

You inspect the clothes again, frustration simmering down back to calm as you let your shoulders lessen their stress with a sigh. "Thank you, ma'am."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Barely two months into knowing the monsters, and you're already staying at their place. While Alphys and Undyne are capable of leaving under the current, wild weather at will if they were to take their needed precautions, neither Frisk nor you can step a foot outside without drawing it back in. The streets are a mess of puddles, nature-made swimming pools, and car alarms going off; the scenery outside is close to that of becoming something of a meteorologist's concern and a scientific anomaly, yet the news and every other information outlet available continues to report it as something of lesser concern than what it is.

As you stare outside, Frisk now resting on your lap, you worry over two things: the lost meeting at your office, and the stranded car belonging to Sans's brother. You comb your fingers through Frisk's hair, using that as a means of entertainment from your worries. They're still sleeping soundly, tired out by both finishing their homework and playing with you at the indoor, mini playground Toriel set up for them.

"I'll pay for any damages to your car as soon as this clears up." You direct your words at Papyrus, who stops gazing outside to face you, looking dazed. His mind looks to be somewhere else, though another squint at your appearance makes him snap out of it.

"That is the least of my concerns now, (L/N)." He smiles at you, leaving the window to crouch next to you, couch occupied with Frisk, Sans, and yourself. "I can go look for it tomorrow morning. And as for whatever damages it gets, I am certain my insurance will look over this case! There have been plenty of reports discussing the damages made by the rain, so it is not my greatest worry." His gaze falls on Frisk, a warmer look reaching his face. "Do you want me to carry them back to bed? It's getting late!"

"It's fine-"

"Please, I insist!"

You smile at his persistence, far more endearing than his older brother's. The thought makes you pay attention back towards Sans, who's still showing signs of exhaustion on his body, slumped over to the corner. His eye sockets are closed, dark circles beginning to show under them. 

"Thank you." You pay attention back to Papyrus, who takes Frisk in his hold, propping them safe with both arms.

You stand up, ready to help out, yet he dismisses your actions with the words, "Stay and chat with Toriel. I assume you both still have plenty to talk about, don't you? You should take this opportunity to talk with her and the other ladies! Perhaps then, you can leave this place with a different perspective by the time the rain stops."

"I will." You nod and watch him leave, carrying your child up in his arms with seemingly no difficulty. His steps fade as so does his figure, leaving you be with Sans sleeping at the couch, the owner of the house by the kitchen, and Undyne and Alphys standing by the living room. The pair's gazes are occupied on the window, carrying a similar expression to Papyrus's from earlier before.

You don't even know how to start up another conversation with the last one having ended poorly, yet try again by using the easiest route possible: going over to Toriel and asking if she needs help with dinner. You stand up and stretch out, legs numb with how long Frisk had been sitting on your lap. It's only fortunate tomorrow's Friday, the beginning of another weekend.

"Can I help with anything?"

Those are the first words you say as you enter the kitchen, greeted by the smell of boiling vegetables and the sound of a knife against a cutting board. Toriel's next to the stove, cutting some carrots, but stopping to look at you. A smile forms on her face, and she nods once, pointing with her gaze at the potatoes resting on the counter next to hers. "Did Frisk go back to sleep?" she asks, facing back at the carrots again, continuing with her work. "I am amazed at how much energy they have, and how little they want to sleep now that they've seen how many people are in this home. It is only when I insist that they need to rest up for the sake of their health that they do so."

While you're not sure if she's being indirect or not, the goat lady's words lead you to assume one thing, and that's Frisk not wanting to waste time sleeping when at the monsters' home. With you, they went out like a light, going to sleep right when you told them to. Only when there was a full house and when family members came to visit did they break that rule, far too excited over the new faces for them to sleep. 

"Papyrus took them back to their room," you reply, reminding yourself not to let your thoughts drift again. "And that's... normal for them, actually." You decide to be truthful with her, following Papyrus's advice. "They usually don't like to sleep when they're too excited about something. Every time my family visits, they're just a big ball of energy and don't sleep until everyone's doing the same." A smile forms at that, a memory from when your ex came to visit Frisk slipping through. "When my, um… ex-husband used to visit, they would stay up late playing games with him. So I guess Frisk feels the same way about you and their other monster friends."

With the potatoes already washed and peeled, all that's left is to cut them and throw them into the pot. You ask her over what size you should cut them, turning your back to her again when you're given an answer. "Is there anything you would like to ask me about, (L/N)?" Toriel asks, speaking in between cuts. "If there is any doubt you have over me, and even over Dreemurr, Sans, and others I know well, I can inform you about it. But as for things that are personal, that is up to them."

Thunder crashes at the nearby window just as you're slicing, finger almost ending up in the same condition as the potatoes, but prevented by your reflexes. The lights go out on par with another loud blast of lightning, plenty more violent than the first one. 

"Goodness!" you hear Toriel say. 

You follow the sound of her voice to see a sphere of flames held up in her hand; it reveals her face, now furrowed with worry. "Are you alright?"

"I'm alright." You set the knife aside and join her side, following her orders when she informs you there are candles on the bottom drawer beside her. You act quickly, taking them out and lighting them up with the help of her fire magic. "Are you?"

She nods, a gentle look crossing her. "We should go check on the others." Her gaze points back at the drawer, left open. "Could you bring more of those?"

"Of course, ma'am."

You take the emptiest box of the three and follow her out of the kitchen.

Your surroundings are now left pitch dark except for a bright and glowing, blue spear held out by Undyne, Alphys standing next to her. A tall figure holding up a smaller one can be seen near the couch, people who you assume are Papyrus and Frisk based on who's the only one left to find. "Has anyone seen Sans?" Papyrus asks, fret tracing his voice. "He's not on the couch anymore!"

Looking to where he points at, you see he's right. The couch is empty with the exception of your and Frisk's belongings. Not even a trace of him can be seen left around, making it appear as if he's outright vanished from existence, and not even the dim lighting produced by the candles can aid with tracking him down amongst all the people, objects, and darkness laid around.

While others assemble and call out for Sans as they search through all the rooms they could possibly imagine finding him in, you try to come up with a different solution besides that. Him disappearing was more than unlikely considering he didn't have any magic or energy left in him for teleportation, so you rule that out as a possibility and take a moment to observe your surroundings a bit closer. You look at the couch again, as if still expecting to catch a glimpse of him there despite what you're doing right now. But as fate would have it, your keys pop into your mind when you come across the sight of your suit jacket, umbrella, and all other belongings left behind on a corner of the couch, most of these stored away in a bag or left nearby it. 

Reminded over what your car keys have attached to them, you go look for them, bumping into someone right as you're about to make it there. 

You wobble and -- at the feeling of losing balance -- you act fast. You break your own fall and later grab onto the person to prevent them from falling, though you don't need to do much when you notice their height doesn't reach that much higher than your chest. Add to that your sturdier body helping with breaking the fall, and you've managed to stop the both of you from fully crashing into each other or stumbling to the floor.

You sit down on the couch when you feel you're losing your balance and hold the person upright. You then let go to look through your bag, retrieving the keys and -- along with them -- a small, solar flashlight hanging from it. The light's directed right at the person's face, revealing Sans's, who looks as if caught in a bad deed. 

"Are you okay?" You don't bother over bringing up the fact he face-planted right into your chest, nor that his hands gripped tight onto your waist for support; the sheer sincerity of his surprise at bumping into you makes you assume he hadn't done it on purpose.

"I'm, uh… I'm fine." His words are just as spacey as his gaze, and his irises point at the floor for a second, spacing off yet again. "Sorry about that." He sits right beside you on the couch, facing up to meet with your eyes. "I was gonna check up on the ceiling since it's rainin' so hard. Kinda looks like it'll start leakin' soon."

Thunder strikes again, sending the monster back into your hold. His hands grip onto your shirt next as he freezes up in place, just before he can get to reveal the true meaning over his disappearance.

"Are you… Are you _scared_ over this?" You try to push down your amusement, yet are unable to when you see his grip is tight enough to remind you of a cat being frightened. 

When another one strikes, louder than the rest, you bring up another question while biting back a smile. "Is it… Is it the noise?" He tenses up even more, encouraging you to bring him closer, his current proximity far different from his attempts at flirting with you. "Sans." You call out his name, attempting to snap him out of it. "What's wrong? You're as cold as ice!"

He doesn't react, though you can feel him shake and shiver under your hold. You look down at him to see his eye sockets are tightly shut. How much he's scooted closer makes him sit on your lap, though his smaller figure helps you with keeping him safe and balanced in your hold. 

As you keep him that way, you can only ask yourself one thing:

_Would you come off as an insensitive jerk if you decided to tease him over this in the future?_

At the sound of a louder crash, the skeleton's unresponsive, caught up in his fear.

_...Or would it work best not to take that risk?_

For the time being, you hold him closer. 

The feeling of everyone's eyes on you surges when you move your eyes away from the skeleton to look around you. In contrast, you see Papyrus and Frisk too busy playing with a candle to notice what's happening, along with Toriel having all her attention on lighting more candles. It's only Alphys and Undyne who take notice, both their faces equally enlightened by what's unfolding on the couch. They look ready to yap their mouths off over the situation between you and the one clinging onto you, yet one sharp look of caution at the two keeps them from saying anything risky about it.

Whether they knew about Sans's fear you didn't know about, and whether he wanted it to be known you weren't aware of, either. For now, you hold him close, trying your best to ignore the women's stares and waiting until Sans snaps out of it. His hold on you's firm and close, needful and impartial as the thunderstorm continues to gain strength.


	20. Chapter Ten | Dating Fight! (Part 1 of 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Obligatory) Alternate Title: "Ya like jazz?"

If you told your past self you would be in the monsters' home at midnight, wearing borrowed pajamas and staying the night on their couch, you would've most likely been asked over what the hell you were smoking. 

It's what you assume will be a sleepless night, giving you time to reflect on what's happened so far and what opportunities you'd lost with the blackout. Not only had it interrupted your time with Toriel, but it had brought upon a new piece of information you weren't quite sure what to do with, and that was Sans and him being afraid of thunder. While one side of you wanted to tease him over it, the other -- based on how raw his fear was and how much he seemed to have entrusted his safety on you -- wanted nothing but to try to comfort the monster over the situation. In short, sympathy towards him sounded hard to do without him taking it as the results of his flirting, yet making fun of him made you feel like a jerk.

"Can we talk?"

You look to the voice to see Sans standing by the television, a hand gripping its top for stability. His body language shows exhaustion and nothing more, though you don't let your guard down yet, still wary over any possible flirting attempts. "About the blackout thing, I mean."

The circles under his eye sockets are darker than before, a bit of a strange observation to take in, considering how much he's slept already. If this is what he meant about how he needed Karma for his magic, it made _way_ more sense now. A half-hour trip to Toriel's with him casting a see-through veil over the windshield and another one for him to pick up Papyrus had proven more than enough to drain his magic and all the energy left in him. 

But if that was the case, why did he accept his job as a sentry, if his task was to kill any human who crossed him -- right from the start?

Was he willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of obtaining that soul, and simultaneously, his kinds' freedom?

"Sit with me," you offer, caught in the spur of the moment. "You already sat on my lap, didn't you? Why try to be modest now? I wouldn't have minded that much, if you'd at least taken me to dinner first."

You hear him snort at that, though a hand covers up the noise when he catches just how quiet everything is. "Sorry, (Y/N). I may like flirtin' with you, but physical contact's where I cross the line. And unless you're also comfortable with it, I'm not gonna try anythin' like that." He rubs the back of his skull, looking guilty. "So with that being said, sorry for all that. For, uh, slammin' right into you, huggin' you, and then, well... lettin' me sit on your lap without asking. I wasn't myself back there."

His expression's not far from that of a wounded puppy, and it's only when you pat down at the space left next to you that he reacts, sitting down and facing your gaze. "Did something happen in the past? Were you… in a war or something like that?" PTSD's the first thing to come up into your thoughts, though you're not exactly sure how to approach the topic with him. "You don't have to answer me, if you don't want to."

"Thanks," he says, shoulders kept high as he huffs and faces his lap. "It's... somethin' like that. But like you said, I don't really know how to talk about it yet." He lets out a noise between a chuckle and a nose flare, meeting your gaze again afterwards. "I didn't know just how… how _loud_ thunder was here at the Surface, so when it first happened, I was even more caught off guard by it. Today wasn't that bad, and I already knew what was comin', but I still acted that way."

"Do… Do other people know about this?"

"Only Tori and my bro. They were the ones who saw me in that state the first time."

You bite your lip and let out a sympathetic hiss in response to that, remembering just who'd caught him and you in that position. If Alphys and Undyne really _didn't_ know anything about his fear, then judging by the wide stares they were giving you while the skeleton sat on your lap, their point of view was clearly far different from yours. 

"What's wrong?" he asks, mirth returning to his voice.

"Remember when you sat on my lap?"

His face falls, tone straining with it, "Is remindin' me a way of you gettin' back at me for what I've done?"

You huff and swat his shoulder in a harmless, playful manner despite your narrowed gaze. "I'm being _serious_ here, Sans!" you exclaim, frowning. "Alphys and Undyne... They- They saw us like that, so I was wondering if you knew about it, too."

"What?" he asks, a subtle furrow showing on his skull. "Did they really see us?"

"Yes!" Your response is muffled by you covering your face in shame, face burning at the thought. "If they really _don't_ know about your condition, then they… They probably thought we were hitting it off on the couch!" With how hot your face feels, you're forced to let it go and direct a pointed gaze at Sans, who tries to ease you out with the gesture of his hands and a hush, reminding you to keep your voice low. "They probably think we're dating now!"

"And what's so bad about that?"

"Everything!"

Frustrated by his easygoing self, it takes a minute for you to find some calm, regaining it when you remind yourself over what's more important right now. 

"I don't want either of us to get carried away with that, so I'll just tell you this," you speak up, maintaining a calmer tone and looking at the skeleton right in his irises. You focus your eyes on him, wanting the gravity of the situation to be known. "I… I used to be married, and I waited two whole years of dating just to, well… _achieve_ that dream, only to then have Jerry ditch me the second he couldn't keep up with the responsibility of living and raising a child together." You pause in your words, feeling a few tears form in your eyes, embarrassment and sorrow both weighing the same. "If there's anything I need less of, it's romantic drama! I don't mind you flirting with me, but if any false rumour gets out about us, then I... I simply won't allow this to happen anymore."

You back off and lower your intensity. 

The more you talk, the more you realize this has nothing to do with the skeleton, aside from what transpired with the blackout. 

"What happened earlier was accidental, and I firmly acknowledge that. But if you're going to keep up this flirting charade with me, I'm gonna need to ask for one thing: _don't_ spread false rumours about us." You wipe a tear off your face, looking away when you feel his gaze on your body, burning you. "I… I want to be a good parental figure for Frisk, so if I want that, I really _can't_ be depicted as an easy, airheaded person." You stop and let out a breath, almost shuddering in the process. "I allowed myself to be stupid once, so I can't let it happen again."

You know you're about to confess something really, if not _extremely_ personal, yet you can't prevent yourself from keeping your mouth shut, something about the monster and the quiet of the living room pushing you to be heartfelt with him.

"It was bad enough when he told his friends about how quickly I fell for him -- how it seemed I loved him more than he did with me. And it took me too long to understand what he meant by that when… when his first solution to us not working out the first time was doing a one-hundred and eighty on our relationship without any explanation whatsoever. I was naive and stupid as hell for getting back with him _twice_ after that first fallout, and then deciding to _marry_ him later on, so to this day, I… I still take responsibility for what became of us and our family after that. And that's why I really can't allow myself to… to fall into another relationship just like that. I need to fix this and myself first."

You finish venting with a huff. Then, you form a smile and offer a hand out to the skeleton when you're done. "Think we could both put this day behind us? I won't push further over what happened to you, but I… I expect the same kind of respect and treatment from you."

Sans takes your hand, completing the shake. "Ya really gotta ask, pal?" he says, winking. "Respect's somethin' that should be given right from the start, so long as the other person's showed it, too." He pulls his hand back, meeting with your eyes afterwards. "I may like teasin' and flirtin' around with you, but I still hold respect for who you are as a person, just as I hold respect for how mad attractive you look in your work uniform."

Truthfully, his last sentence catches you off guard with how nonchalant he is, and you almost pass off his words as nothing. But when you _do_ catch onto the comment he made over _that_ particular aspect of you, you stand up, towering over him with your hands on your hips and a scowl. "Good- _night_ ," you bark, teeth gritted.

"Wait."

Just as you turn to leave, he tugs at the end of your pajamas' sleeve and grabs your attention with the call of your name. A muffled, jazzy tune followed by yelling and fighting can be heard from the television, now on. "Watch somethin' with me," Sans says, serious. "I know ya ain't sleepy yet, and that you chose to sleep on the couch, so don't leave."

You don't budge; rather, you sigh and keep your back turned to him. "Unnecessary comment leads to a necessary need to retreat."

"C'mon," he pleads, letting go of your sleeve. "I won't make any more of those 'til the sun rises."

"...Promise?"

"Promise."

You finally face him again, though all while keeping a neutral look as you sit down next to him. The television displays a black-and-white film, action present in every second of it. When the monster asks over what you'd like to watch, you don't give him a concrete answer, letting him choose instead. He passes by a few channels, sound clips amalgamating with each other as he switches back and forth, only stopping when a DreamJobs movie shows up, a bee pun quickly making its way to your ears.

"Wanna watch this?" Sans asks, waiting.

"Whatever you want, honey," you reply, arms crossed as you look him in the eye, attempting to one-up his past flirting attempts. "I bee-lieve I told you to choose, didn't I?" You wink, soul leaving your body when you see he grins at your actions. 

He returns these by hooking an arm right behind the couch, leaning in just a bit closer to your side and staying true to his word by not once touching you. "Flirtin' back now, huh? Surprised you didn't just tell me to buzz off."

You stare at him for a good while, stricken by his line of defense. When you're capable of moving again, you stand up and make way to the kitchen, only stopping after reminding yourself over how helpful Sans had been these past few weeks, and how little you'd shown your gratitude over it. "I'm gonna go get some water. Do you need anything, Serif?"

"You're all I need right now, pal."

"I'm _serious_."

He chuckles, slumps on a corner of the couch, and rests an arm behind his skull. A subtle grin returns to his face, sly and dangerous. "I'm good," he says. "Though it wouldn't be bad if you could take some monster meds outta the bottom pantry."

You frown at that, reminded over his physical state. "Are you still tired?"

"Nah. Just got a lil' headache, is all."

Though unconvinced, you enter the kitchen and follow his instructions as to where the medicine is. You take the one marked with 'acetaminophen for monsters' and bring two cups of water along with you -- tap for you, and from-the-fridge for him. Taking a cup of water from Toriel's home made you feel bad, even if it was lukewarm and from the tap.

When you return, you sit next to the skeleton and offer him the medicine first. Then, you offer him a glass, though he takes the warm one. "Think I didn't see what ya did there?" he comments, winking. "You ain't gotta restrict yourself so much, pal. You're as much of a family as Frisk is."

You grab the remaining glass and hold back your emotions, how hard they hit making you drink the water to avoid them. "...Thank you, but I'm not." You drink the rest of the water, not wanting to let your voice waver. "Frisk may be like your family, but I certainly am not."

The movie distracts you when Sans decides to look at you; the mood of the film's far more whimsical and upbeat for your current state of mind. "Like I've said before, please don't waste your time on me, 'cause it's not gonna work." 

Silence stays as you both watch the movie, yet it's promptly broken when he finishes his drink. "'Fraid that's not gonna work with _us_ , (Y/N)." His voice is serious again, a rarity for who he is; or at least, who you envisioned him to be. "Just as we're insistent on Frisk being a part of our lives, we're insistent that you can be a part of that, too. It might take time, but it'll happen with effort, integrity, and mutual understanding."


	21. Chapter Ten | Dating Fight! (Part 2 of 2)

With yesterday's uniform already washed and dried along with you wearing your spare set to avoid wearing the same one today, you're ready to go off to work the second you're out of Toriel's home. No detour to yours is needed, though you stop to say your thanks and farewells, and instruct Frisk on how they should behave while you're gone. "Wait for me, alright?" you say, smiling at them. "I have to work overtime today, but I'll be right back before nine." You place a hand on their head and play with their hair before pressing a quick kiss to their cheek.

_"Does this mean Toriel's going to be my new babysitter from now on?_ " they sign, a hopeful light in their eyes.

"...Yes." You relent, not wanting to be late. "For the time being, at least."

Even with that addition by the end, their joy doesn't fade away, something they show through a grin and a wave. "Take care, (mom/dad)!"

You wave back at them, left with a lingering warmth in your chest at the sound of their voice again, so loud and free despite who they're with and how many people they're around. The only chances you'd gotten to hear their voice be so confident and strong were when Jerry used to visit, whenever they wanted to say they loved you, and -- most recently -- whenever they were left under Toriel's care, though you soon dismiss those thoughts to focus more on making it to work. You check the time on your phone to see there's still around three hours left: one for running errands, half to grab a quick bite to eat, one to make it on-time to work, and the other half left to meet up with your boss and excuse yourself over yesterday's missed meeting. 

When you see Undyne's legs emerging from under your minivan, you subtract the hour for running errands, only expecting the worst scenario from how much rain had fallen yesterday. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask, clutching your ring and toying with it for support.

The fish woman slides out from under it, arms and hands smudged with oil and dirt. She doesn't seem to mind though, and grins up at you instead. "The battery and some other stuff got damaged in the rain, but it's nothing my girlfriend and I can't fix!" You offer a hand out to the woman, though she declines and stands up on her own, commenting about not dirtying your outfit now that you were going off to work. "We've got a motorcycle in the garage, so if you know how to ride one, then feel free to use it." She looks over to the minivan as a hint of smugness slips on her face. "If you don't, Sans can give you a ride." She jabs your waist with her cleanest elbow, what you assume is a wink directed at you, albeit difficult to tell with only one eye. "How about it, (L/N)?"

_Don't look at a gift horse in the mouth._

That's the only thought you can come up with as she offers you a solution. The jab she'd given you confirms your suspicions as to what she believed was going on between you and Sans; regardless, you don't say anything about that and nod. Best to go with the flow of things for now, tardiness unwanted. "Well… Thank you, miss," you speak up, words almost forced out. The thought of being at such a close level with the skeleton again makes your temples ache, and while you could use the excuse of taking the next bus as an easy escape, you're not sure whether to risk it and give into the woman's offer as a result. "Is he… around?"

"He's at the garage," she replies, sliding back under the vehicle. Her voice sounds muffled when she continues, the melody of tools and metal clanking heard as she keeps on with her work. "Think you could tell him Papyrus doesn't need a lift anymore? I got a call from him earlier saying the car's back in shape."

You bite your lip, frowning after. "Did he say how much the repairs cost?"

"His insurance covered up for him this time. A lot of cars have been getting damaged under this weather, so it really isn't a surprise for companies to receive those calls anymore."

"Still," you persist, sighing. "If there's any way I can help, then please let me know." You rummage through your belongings, retrieving a twenty, a ten, and three fives from your wallet. "I, um... don't really have enough cash on me right now, but I can pay you more formally when I'm back."

Undyne slides back to you, forehead creased, eye narrowed, and lips frowning. "I'm not asking you to pay," she says. "I like getting my hands on stuff like this, so it's no big deal."

You crouch down next to her and slide the money into her jeans' front pocket. "It still feels bad not to." Standing up, you dust your uniform off and check the time marked on your phone again, reminding yourself not to make any further delays.

"Hey!" She calls out for you when you leave without any other words or wait. To counter, you rush off to the garage, both as an escape and a necessity. "I'll get you next time. You're lucky I'm laying down right now!"

Her words fade as you approach your next destination, being greeted with a helmet the second you're in. A motorcycle stands in front of you, engine rumbling as the driver holds it back, his face kept hidden under another helmet. "C'mon," the monster says, his expression unknown to you, and voice similar by how quick those words are muttered. "I already know you're late, so I ain't gonna push any buttons." You see his head lower, and a comment follows after that, "Suggest ya hold on tight with what you're wearin'."

You face down at yourself, seeing both dress pants and shoes -- typical of your work uniform. While it's nothing out of the ordinary, it makes sense as to how it can be hazardous wearing both pieces while riding a motorcycle, their material far less practical for something like this. Taking the monster's words into account, you nod and sit behind him, hands awkwardly slipping around his waist. "...May I?"

"Not may," he says, a chuckle leaving him. "You _should_." 

Words acknowledged, you press yourself closer against the skeleton, arms locking tight around his waist and chest brushing with his back. Your hands can be felt growing sweaty, reminding you to be cautious despite the well-intentioned meaning of the ride being offered to you. "I'm… I'm ready." You can hear your voice shake, though you hope that he hasn't; the engine helps drown out part of it, fortunately.

When Sans steps on the gas, your words fall short and you grab him tighter than before, the loud and sudden roar of the vehicle sending out fear inside you. 

"You're not," he remarks, holding back a laugh. "Just grab on tighter if you're scared. I won't bite."

You do as suggested, ignoring the humour in his tone as you close your eyes shut and squeeze him tight enough to cut his laughter. 

"Ready now?"

"Y- Yes."

He charges right off, wind stinging your arms with how fast it blows. While fear clings onto one side of you, adrenaline takes hold of the other, allowing you to open an eye and peak at the scenery before you. The monster zooms past all sorts of sights and sounds, from birds foraging through trees to other engines rumbling. It's an exhilarating feeling at its least, and an overwhelming one at its most.

He stops at a red light and spares a glance at you through the mirror only to chuckle again, more amused than the last. "The more I know you, the more (mom/dad)-like you act," he says, prepping the motorcycle again.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You drive a minivan, wore those long pajamas Tori gave you to sleep without any problem, and now you're scared of speed n' danger." The light changes back to green, muffling out part of his voice as he drives off again. "What's next? Do ya work as a teacher, in an office, or under the medical field? Those're usually the top three, though I'm guessin' it's somewhere along the first two -- based on your uniform."

You don't want to give him an answer, reluctant to let him know he'd been right. "...I'm a secretary," you reply, facing down at his waist.

He laughs, hard and deep. The sound alone makes you ease in, how earnest it is making you break into a smile yourself.

"Called it."

  
  


* * *

  
  


You're a mess by the time you make it to your first stop, pants wrinkled, shoes dusty, foundation smudged, and body still shaken up by the ride. Sans waits until you're done fixing yourself out, though as expected, he makes a comment along the lines of how you didn't need to bother, since you still looked good -- all according to him, at least. You ignore those comments and face him only when you're done freshening up, mind locked on what you're meant to do now that you've made it to a shopping center.

"Do you… really have the time?" you ask before getting off, noticing how early it still is and the fact he'd chosen to take you here rather than drive you off straight to work without any other stops. "You don't have to stay, if it's going to delay you in any way."

"It's fine," he replies, double-checking the vehicle's parked. "Wouldn't drive you here, otherwise. You also didn't wanna stay for breakfast, so I know you haven't eaten anything yet."

The hustle and bustle of everyone around you stops whenever they walk too close to where you're at.

Knowing your face has been thrown around all over social media these past few weeks, it's no surprise nor doubt that you've already got a reputation, be it more bad than good. The sight of you being right next to the monster involved with you in your bus incident is apparently a surreal one based on the looks people display, these varying mostly between shock, amusement, and caution -- sometimes all three at once. You step out of the motorcycle when the skeleton offers a hand out to you, further making those around you demonstrate their feelings over the scene unfolding before their eyes.

You don't bother giving them a minute of your time and rather keep your hold firm on Sans's hand, nodding your head subtly when he casts a look at you. 

_"Play along,"_ you mouth, smiling at him. "Don't bother with this stuff," you whisper, close to his ear cavity. "The best we can do right now's prevent something like that bus incident from ever happening again." To avoid letting the situation receive another meaning from him, you hold his hand stronger, getting him to walk closer to your side again. "And thanks again for back then, by the way." You say those words only loud enough for only him to hear. Then, you move your gaze away from him to direct a sterner, unamused look at a passerby, this one having stayed looking at you for just a little too long.

You continue walking and ignoring stares until you arrive at the school supply closest by. 

With Frisk being gone for almost two months during their time spent at the Underground, it's of no surprise plenty of things have changed at their school. One of these were the new materials required for the start of their second semester, mostly for physical education and the newest addition of a gardening class. Although you hadn't thought the skeleton would offer himself to help you get through your to-do list, you adapt and thank him. Truthfully, you expected him to simply drop you off at work and leave.

"Do you want to eat something first? You haven't had breakfast yet either, have you?" you ask, spotting a diner barely a block away. "There's still time, if you're really up for this. And Undyne already said Papyrus got his car fixed, so you don't need to go pick him up anymore."

"Askin' me out? Thought I was the one who owed ya dinner for last time."

Not wanting to satisfy his teasing any longer, you ignore his comment with a hum and search through your belongings. From there, you retrieve some brand-new ear plugs, these still in their packet. "Here," you say, handing them over to him. The monster's lucky you aren't too much of a morning person, and that he'd caught you in a good mood with the rush and the wind of the ride. Any different situation, and you would've come up with a quick retort to his comment. "I'm not sure if it'll work on your kind, but... Frisk uses them when they need to study or sleep when they're not sleepy. They get distracted easily, so I usually carry these with me, just in case."

It takes Sans a solid minute to react, though a grin shows when he takes the ear plugs from you. He looks them over once before saving them in his back pocket, and the outright cheeky look he gives you makes your senses grow alert again. For certain, there was no letting your guard down whenever he was near you from now on. "Thanks, pal," he says, winking. "You're a real dear underneath all that exterior -- All bark and no bite."

"Don't test me," you warn, scowling. "And don't call me dear."

"What about babe, then? Or do ya wanna be called (Mr./Mrs.) Serif already?"

You huff and hurry to the school supply, leaving him behind. "I'm fine with _neither_. Thank you." Your steps are haste, these only stopping when you open the door, keeping it that way for him to enter next. "But if anyone's last names are getting replaced here though, it's _you_ who'd be named Comic Sans (L/N). I don't do replacing names, unless I get to keep mine."

"Assertive," he comments, whistling. "Nice."

Already feeling a headache coming through, you sigh and pay more attention to the list at hand, then head over to the store's arts and crafts section first.

"Do you need anything for you or your brother?" you ask him, keeping your eyes focused on the materials displayed. There's a bunch of items you figure could catch Papyrus's interest given by how much he liked spending time with Frisk, be it by playing with them or helping them with their homework. That thought makes you throw in a few items regardless of having not received an answer yet, endeared by the image of Frisk being happy over the surprise, and the taller skeleton as a follow-up. Not only did Toriel ensure to be a great babysitter, but Papyrus was attentive over Frisk's happiness and enjoyment just as much as he was over his elder brother's. "My treat."

You've almost forgotten who you're shopping with, thoughts having drifted away more than you were aware of, though it doesn't take long to be reminded of your company, his comment one that drags you right back to the present, too quickly for you to manage.

"You're already a treat all on your own, pal."

Pissed, you take the nearest, lightweight (and non-breakable) item to you and throw it at him. He catches it though, barely flinching or budging with how quick he reacts. Then, he looks at the item now held in his hand, diablerie flickering in his gaze. He shows you what you've thrown at him, further making you subtract another point off your comeback list and add it over to his wooing list.

"Being indirect now, huh?" he comments, holding a Valentine's Day scrapbooking kit, marked off as a discount item for how old the product is. "I like it."

Determined to fight back, you retort with, "Yeah. It's worn out and fifty-percent off, just like your poor excuses of what you call _'flirting'_ around with me."

Unfortunately, that only seems to make him smile more. 

"Nice."


	22. Announcement

Actual story updates will resume as normal tomorrow Saturday with Chapter Eleven | Premonition.

This is just a quick announcement aimed at those interested in helping me decide/settle out a few things for the story through a Quotev poll!

You can access the poll [here](https://quotev.com/quiz/13597438/FaiCom-Survey-1).

And that's pretty much all I wanted to say with this!

Take care, and stay safe. 😄


	23. Chapter Eleven | Premonition

_How would they react to him having caught them dancing?_

That's the only question Sans can ask himself when he enters Frisk's bedroom, both parent and child too busy moving to the fast-paced beat of the song to notice him by the door. 

Against interrupting their moment, Sans stands by and observes the scene from afar, paying attention to both people involved in the dance. Nonetheless, his attention soon moves on to the near faultless sway of (Y/N)'s arms, waist, and footsteps, following up to the harmony of the song. The view makes him wonder if -- perhaps -- they'd practiced a similar dance for the night of their wedding. It's either that, or they're secretly a dance teacher in their free time, somehow balanced with their full-time work as a secretary. There's likely no other, reasonable explanation over the swiftness and clean execution in each step they take, likely to have some professional experience based on how quickly they adjust to the consistent changes in rhythm with ease.

"Come on, honey!" they exclaim, grabbing Frisk by both hands and swaying them around the room. Their feet stomp rhythmically against the wooden floor, all while keeping up with the younger one's pace. "We'll be dancing this for your birthday in no time!" They laugh when Frisk stumbles and covers it up with improv, claps being given as a reward over their recovery. "See that? You're doing great!"

The music carries on playing as they both take a break, though the smile on (Y/N)'s face fades away the moment they take their phone. They lower the volume and frown at the screen; their expression's kept hidden from Frisk, who's now resting their head on their parent's lap, the younger one's breaths steadying while the elder one's quicken. Their gaze turns wet, their shoulders taut, and they blink a few times, lower lip bitten on in an attempt at preventing that sorrow from showing any further than it has.

"(Y/N)?"

Sans doesn't know what makes him call out for them so quickly, but something about the human frowning with genuine sadness rather than annoyance over his flirting makes his soul ache. They look towards him once their shirt's long sleeve wipes the one tear that _does_ manage to leave their eye and run down their cheek. "Yes?"

He considers what exact response he can possibly come up with, choosing the worst one out of pure unpreparedness. "You dance good."

Weren't Frisk on their lap, he would've no doubt assumed they would be kicking him out by now, yet all the human can manage is another question, sounding borderline irate when it leaves their mouth, "And just how much did you see?"

"Uh… Everything?" Again, he screws up and sees their glare darken. "I mean it, though," he adds, hoping for the best. "Are you really gonna dance with Frisk for their birthday?"

Finally, they smile, a nod accompanying it; bringing up something related to their child rather than their own self seems to do the trick, thankfully. "Yeah. It's... It's kind of a tradition by now." They hold Frisk tight by the underarms and stand up to lift them high in the sky. "It's about our fifth time doing this -- Right, honey? Though I doubt you remember when you were three! ...Or do you?" They spin Frisk around, laughing after their child does so first; the pair's foreheads bump against each other when they stop, making the younger one burst out a giggle again. "I'll keep doing it for as long as they want to!"

Their phone rings, hitting the brakes on their joy again. They set Frisk back down on the floor and clench their hands in what looks to be them bracing themselves. When they find some courage, they take the device from where they'd left it, eyes tearing up again after. "Sorry about this, but… Could you watch over them for a moment? I- I need to take this call."

Sans nods, gesturing for them to go on ahead. "No problem, pal. Take your time."

"Thank you."

When they're gone, Frisk's smile falls and it's not long until they frown. 

They approach the skeleton's side and tug at his jacket, grabbing his attention. He looks down at them, now sitting by the floor, music long faded from the room. _"Do you... think they're okay?"_ Frisk signs, facing him. _"They've been frowning at their phone all day, but they… They won't tell me what's wrong."_

Sans lets out a sigh, sitting beside Frisk as he nods and tries his best not to bring any unnecessary tension into the situation. 

"I'm sure they're fine," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "(Y/N)'s just, uh… a lil' worried, as a parent." While he wasn't one for making quick assumptions, he can only figure the frown on their face is connected to their ex. If it was Frisk's birthday soon, it would no doubt mean Jerry was trying to regain contact with them again. "They just don't wanna make ya worry about any unnecessary stuff, so maybe that's why they're keepin' it from you."

The monster assumes he's said something wrong when anger shows on Frisk's face. 

He sees them stand up as their hands ball and gaze narrows. "And why… Why would their troubles be unnecessary?" At the sound of their voice, he braces himself, fearing the situation's become a way bigger deal than he expected it to be. "How... How can you worry so little, if you like them so much? I thought you'd at _least_ make an effort to ask what's wrong!"

"Frisk," he calls out, caught off guard by their outburst. "I don't really think I'm in the right place to be askin' them about that kinda stuff." His face turns warm; how the child managed to find out what was going on between him and their parent is a mystery to him. The skeleton had been extra careful not to flirt with (Y/N) when Frisk was around, mainly to avoid any unneeded drama. "And how do you even know I like them?"

"You _just_ admitted it!" Frisk points a finger at him, frowning. "Why do you like them? Da- Jerry said he did, but it didn't last long. And... And didn't Toriel break up with Asgore, too? How… How should I know you like them for _real_ , then?"

"I'm sorry to say this, but you're buttin' into stuff you don't really understand yet, bud."

"It still doesn't mean I'm not right! S- So if you really like them, you- You should ask them what's wrong. Last time something like this happened, it was all my fault!"

Not quite sure how to approach Frisk now, Sans resorts to telling them to sit back down and finds preparedness through a deep breath. "Now, listen up," he says, patting the top of their head. "This is somethin' you shouldn't be worryin' too much about. I know it's normal and natural for you to worry about (Y/N), but this stuff's unfortunately somethin' only _they_ can deal with right now." He lets go, pausing for another breath. "I'm not sure how they got hurt, but it's likely it wasn't your fault."

_"How can you be so sure it's not my fault?"_ Again, Frisk switches back to sign language, though the faint tremble of their hands lets Sans know they're not quite convinced yet. _"You said you didn't know how they got hurt!"_

"And it's 'cause I ain't pushin' for you to tell me anything. Unless you really want to, the only thing I can get from this situation is trouble they're havin' with someone else, not you."

Frisk huffs, bringing their knees against their torso as they hug themselves, speaking up again, "If I tell you, c- could you tell me if it's really my fault?" They sniffle. "I... I really don't want to see them like that anymore."

"You really okay with tellin' me about it?"

They nod. "...Yes."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sans catches (Y/N) at the balcony, standing in the middle of Toriel's hanging plants, potted cherry trees, and a wide variety of floral arrangements. Their face points down, and he can catch the silhouette of their phone, now in their dress pants' back pocket. They're still and quiet, though when he hears them sniffle, he calls out their name, making them turn around.

"Oh." He's welcomed by that noise and a face smeared with tears, a view (Y/N) tries to cover up by taking a napkin from their pocket and covering the mess away from his sight. "I'm... I'm sorry," they say, fixing themselves up. "I... made you wait too long, didn't I?" They crumple the napkin and pocket it away, face now revealing a tired gaze. A few subtle hints of their lament are still present, though he chooses not to comment on that, not wanting to interrupt them just yet. "I should go now."

Their steps are haste as they try to walk past him, making him resort for yet another risky move -- this one _way_ worse than the last. 

"Wait," he calls out, grabbing their wrist.

They react almost similar to last time at the Ruins, and a yelp comes from their lips. When they look down at his hand, he catches a trace of embarrassment in their own gaze, rounded eyes going back to their normal state after he lets go and takes a step back. 

"Wh- What is it?" They try to sound polite, though there's an edge of caution in their tone.

Had they reacted out of fear again, or was his flirting getting to them _that_ badly?

"I need to talk with you about somethin'."

"...Can't it be done tomorrow?"

"Frisk asked me to."

As expected, (Y/N) softens up at the mention of that name. They let their shoulders fall and frown disappear; a smile shows through, apologetic in more ways than one. "I have another meeting at five today," they reply, letting out a breath. "Do you think it could be done after I'm back? I need to take another call before I leave." They spare a moment to look at the time on their phone, facing what Sans assumes is a tardy hour based on how their smile falters. "And I'll... I'll probably just take it on bluetooth while I drive." They pinch the bridge of their nose, closing their eyes and huffing out another breath afterwards. "I'm out of time already."

They approach the door and smile again before leaving -- a mischievous one rather than apologetic like before; it's a look far different from their previous gloom and a change far too sudden for it not to warn over something. Thankfully, they stop right as they turn the knob and leave the door ajar. Then, they look at him, eyes half-lidded and smile much more prominent in their posture. "Thank you, Serif," they say, smile picking up at the sides; a glint shows in their gaze, though the monster's left unsure as to what it means. "You're a pretty decent guy when you're not trying to woo me over every five or six seconds."

(Y/N) leaves and closes the door before he can say anything in response, invoking a persistent sense of sheepishness he can't quite shake right off the bat. He wonders whether they're joking around with him or not, the way those words had come out clearly meant to be taken that way, but the look in their eyes conflicting with that thought. Whether they were fed up with him or not he was less and less certain about the more he got to spend time with them, making it harder to tell when they were being serious about him or not.

_Were they making fun of him?_

_Or did they really mean those words?_

Those are the two main questions to occupy his mind as he approaches the place (Y/N) had been standing at. He looks over the railings of the balcony, the view of flourishing nature and cloudy skies helping him not give too much thought over the situation. What brings him back is the reminder of what Frisk wanted him to talk about with their parent. 

While Sans could've easily declined by saying the topic was none of his business, as he stares again at the sky and considers the possibility of things having finally settled down for everyone he knew, he figures that's the best possible way to pay back for being let out into the Surface. 

_But how in the world did Frisk manage to find him out?_

_Was he being too obvious, or were they really_ **_that_ ** _observant?_

At the thought of what (Y/N) had mentioned about not wanting any more drama pushed into their life, he considers whether to stop, or to perhaps be more subtle in his tries. He stops himself for a second and considers just _why_ he was being so persistent in flirting around with them through these past few weeks. They already looked to be more than immune to any sort of flattery, so it seemed pointless to even try.

So what made him want to continue trying to fix things between him and them, and what kept _them_ from telling him to get lost?

Were they too nice for that?

_Scared_ of him, maybe?

He remembers the tour date and the results that came with them, far different from what he anticipated after it came to an end: rather than following along with his jokes, they had outright watered him down with each comment he made and shot right back at him without hesitation.

_"Enemies to lovers is a thing, though."_

_"Only in low-quality romcoms."_

That had been their breaking point, and -- even to this day -- he can tell their patience has yet to recover from that time at Waterfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pro-Tip:
> 
> Take a shot (of water) everytime someone cries in this story.
> 
> Clear skin and a healthy glow await you!


	24. Chapter Twelve | Danger Mystery (Part 1 of 2)

Today's the day, and though there's no going back now, one look at the last message your ex sent you makes you wish you could.

**I'll 🐝 there in 30 ⌚, babe. 😘😘😘**

**💋💖🥺 Miss you. 🥺💖💋**

_K._

The overuse of emojis topped off with him calling you ‘babe’ makes you regret so much as the thought of meeting him already.

It's hard to imagine a normal conversation with Jerry given how awfully long it's been since you last talked and how blatant you were being through texts, ignoring all the ones about the info he dug up on monsterkind and only answering his most recent message with a 'K'. You didn't want to hear his reasons behind his absence after how bad things were left between you, and even less did you want him to call you 'babe' in real life. Grateful as you are to have Toriel offer her home as the place for your meeting with him, you look forward to this as much as you do having to wake up at five in the morning every weekday. Her home is busy as a result of the upcoming visitor, with Papyrus trying to make himself look like the most sophisticated gentleman possible, Toriel fixing Frisk's hair into two short braids, Undyne freshening up after exercising all her own nervousness away, Alphys practicing her introductory speech, and Sans revising Frisk's homework.

Considering how much of a handful the last person has been, you decide to take that as an opportunity for you to bother him yourself -- not only as payback, but as a way to prepare yourself to confront Jerry soon.

You approach the couch he sits on and stand behind him, his sitting height and your standing one allowing you to grab a look at what he's doing with more detail. He's around halfway through correcting Frisk's Math homework, and their English speech is already set aside with a few marks and commentary on what they had left to work with. His revision stops when you hover a little closer, making him acknowledge your presence and set the notebook aside to turn around and meet with your eyes.

"How do I look?

That's the first question you ask him, a bit of confidence shining through with how your health's managed to improve a bit since your hospitalization. While you still have to use foundation to cover up your stress blemishes and you're far from being as fit as Jerry was, it's a huge difference from how you were at the start of it all. As a result, you smile, ready to hear someone else's view of you besides Frisk, Brenda, or yourself.

"'Fraid you're asking the wrong person, pal," he replies, gaze averting from yours.

"C'mon," you insist, sitting next to him on the couch. You then shift a bit closer to the skeleton and nudge his shoulder, pouting at him after that. "Please?," you add, facing him again. "You're… You're the only one I trust who won't sugarcoat how I look if you pointed out those 'love handles' I've got a while back." 

He manages to keep his gaze and attention on the conversation, though you can see he tries to look elsewhere every so often, as if unable to stare at you for too long.

"So? I was just makin' a comparison between us, not callin' you out or anything."

"But you were still bold enough to say I had them."

You pull your hand back, noticing it's been kept on his shoulder for far too long. Then, you scoot away, growing aware of how close you are. "I don't want him to think I'm still hung up over him." You huff. "It's been almost six years now!"

"Are you still thinkin' about 'im, though?"

"Oh, _hell_ no. He can go date whoever he wants."

Sans grabs the area where you'd touched him; the sight of that makes you worry if you'd involuntarily crossed a line with him. You're not sure how to ask if you've made him uncomfortable, so you back off and shift further away in your seat, setting your hands on your lap and staring down afterwards. "He was… nice enough to wait until I finished my second year of college for us to call our relationship off and for him to leave the picture, so I can't really blame him _too_ much for what happened." You take in some air and look up again, maintaining your pride. "But that still doesn't mean I don't want to look my best. I've moved on, and I... I really want all that to show today."

Appearing convinced, Sans nods once and sits up straighter on the couch. Whatever made him wary of eye contact vanishes and allows him to judge you without any bias, irises scanning your face for a moment. He carries on to your attire, though it's a quicker observation in comparison and a hint of embarrassment can be seen in his body language, from how stiff his shoulders get to how his grin feels forced and bashful. "You look good. Not much different from your regular self, I'd say."

"Please, be honest with me here, Serif. I know I didn't exactly... _look_ my best when we first met, y'know? It's fine."

"But I _am_ being honest." Again, he averts his gaze from yours, posture staying rigid as he faces the table and stares at the open notebook. "You don't need to try and look like you've moved on, 'cause it already shows -- And even more now that you look healthier, too."

Unsure how to approach his comment, you grab your knees and clench your hands around them, sighing after. "If you really think so, then I..." You breathe in, chest feeling tighter than the belt around your waist. "Thank you."

You stand up and fix your clothes for what has to be the twentieth time today. Your heart's racing just as much as your thoughts. Honest to goodness, you were nervous over meeting Jerry again, and not because of butterflies or lingering feelings, but for how much had happened since he last visited. At the thought of him meeting the monsters and learning all about the near two months Frisk was absent from your side, your worries heighten and anxiety eats right through your confidence. 

Nervous, you gulp and look back to the couch again, offering the one still sitting there a smile. "Could you... follow me outside, please?" You wring your hands, clasping them as a subtle plead shows on your face. "I could _really_ use your company right now."

Sans laughs at that, nodding again as he stands up, dusts off, and joins your side, winking when he looks up at you. "Thought you'd never ask, (Y/N)."

You still can't help feeling strange at the sound of him saying your name. 

While you're fully aware it was nothing out of the ordinary and that he was now in closer enough terms with you to call you that instead of 'pal' or (L/N), there remains a sudden flip in your stomach whenever he says it. Whether it was due to how wary you've become around him or how incessant he was with his flirting, it's still impossible for you to acknowledge that and get over those feelings. No _way_ were you wasting any of your time and energy thinking about that stuff, anyway.

* * *

The temperature changes as you both step outside.

In contrast to the warmth and coziness of Toriel's home, you're greeted by cold and unrelenting winds, along with the colder, occasional water droplets falling on your face. The hint of a downpour coming soon makes you dwell on your past visit here and how you were obliged to stay the night back then. You wonder if the same ending will apply for today, or if you would have to cut your reunion short as a consequence.

"Guessin' those months without the kid around were pretty draining, huh? You look _way_ happier compared to when we first met." Sans breaks the ice, though his hands are kept in his pockets to shield himself from both the cold and any awkward body language. "When I think about it, it's… It's kinda hard to believe it's already been just as long since we left the Underground -- And that it's gonna be Frisk's birthday soon, too." 

You face down at him, smiling when you meet with his gaze. "Has it felt like less or longer to you?"

"A weird mix between the two, actually."

You look away from each other at the sound of an engine rumbling from nearby. A familiar, red colour flashes before your eyes; the Ferrawrxd that parks at the sidewalk brings back memories, ones you try to push down. "Tori was already plannin' out somethin' for 'em by that time," the skeleton says, distracting you from the view. "Has she talked about it with you?"

"Not yet," you reply, facing your shoes. "But I wanted to ask her if she'd like to help out -- It's the least I can do with how much she cares for Frisk."

Despite your best efforts not to, you tense up at the sound of a person stepping down and a car door being shut and locked.

Now that you're actually about to confront your ex, it's hard for you to keep your confidence and face up at that sight. "You should do it, then." Again, Sans's voice helps melt your worries down. "I'm sure she'll be more than happy to join you in that -- And pretty much the rest of Frisk's friends, too." You can feel his gaze on you, though you don't look at him, still too anxious to move your eyes away from the floor. "And I'd be more than happy to help also, so just say the word if you need me."

The earthy scent of roses catches you off guard and makes you look up to see a large, white-and-red bouquet being offered out to you, ex-husband standing behind them. "How's it going, babe?" he asks, a smile present on his face. "I missed you."

You back up against the door to Toriel's home and face the man in front of you with careful eyes. Your breathing hitches with how different a greeting that is from your expectations; the sight of him having no companion around and the use of 'babe' makes it obvious as to what the bouquet means. It's even more than evident with the lull in his tone and the soft look in his eyes, though you don't want to acknowledge that. To counter, you step closer to the skeleton's side and look at your ex right in the eye, a firm look remaining in yours. 

"I'm doing alright," you reply, stoic. You then take the flowers from him, paying little attention to them and ignoring his other comment. "This is Sans. Though I'm sure you've heard about him already," you add, gesturing with a hand over to him. Pretending you hadn't seen Jerry at the restaurant back at the very beginning of it all is the best you can do for now with how hard it is to lie about it. "He's one of Frisk's friends from the Underground."

The pair exchange a look, one you can only remain curious over when you remind yourself over the purpose for Jerry's visit. You glare sharply at him, wanting to stand your ground. "Why return after a whole year of not coming around to see your child?" Finally, you cross your arms tight and let your displeasure known through a grimace. "Frisk was gone for almost two whole months, and yet you never worried to ask if I needed help with that or not!"

You take a step forward, anger bubbling the more you let those words dawn upon you. "You came to visit us only after the hardest stage was over. The one where I needed you the most!" You hold yourself back, against letting your voice turn any louder or making a scene of any sort.

"Well, _I..."_ he counters, gaze narrowing and frown showing. " _I_ waited two whole _years_ for you to start out college before ending our relationship, and I'm still paying child support to this day."

"And _I_ had to divide time between taking care of a two year-old with work _and_ college!" You huff out, trying to contain yourself. "This isn't a competition, Jerry. It never was." A sharp bite to the inside of your lip is what's necessary for you to keep yourself from exploding any further than you have already, against showing any more weakness in front of him. "I don't care if you decided to leave, I only wanted you to at least _pretend_ you cared for Frisk. Not just show up and visit once a year like freakin' Santa Claus!"

He glares back at you, keeping it that way when he looks down at Sans, his height not only towering over the monster, but you, as well. "At least I'm not dating a _Halloween_ decoration seven years after my divorce!" 

_Wham!_

You shove the bouquet right at his chest.

Your nostrils flare and your hands ball up tight as you stare him down, frown changing for a deep and unwavering scowl. "Don't talk to him like that!" You pause and take another step forward, enough for him to do the opposite. "Don't call me babe, and don't give me flowers if you're just gonna assume I'm dating someone else! I'm _through_ with you, Jerry, and it's been that way since six damn years ago."

Jerry's eyes lower back to the skeleton, who takes his hands out of his pockets and straightens up. He faces your ex, looking amused. "So this is the one you told me you liked, man?" he asks, brushing you aside to make way towards Sans. "Is this really the (chick/dude) you told me you were into? I thought we were bros!"

"Wait, what?"

Those are the only words you can say out loud as you watch the two confront each other, tension thick in the air. Jerry takes in all of it, while the monster keeps his cool, shrugging at his bro. "Sorry to lay it down like this, but yeah," he says, snickering. "They're who I'm into." He spares a quick glance at you, winking to further fuel your ex's anger. "I gotta admit, it's a bit awkward. Though I really dunno why you're so worked up over this if you had your time all those years ago. Ain't my fault you two broke up."

"They're my ex _-spouse_ , bro!"

"Yeah -- I'm well-aware of that, pal."

You back away from the door when it opens, revealing a frowning Toriel behind it. 

"Is everything alright out there, you two? Someone sounds angry." When she catches sight of Jerry, her eyes brighten and a smile overcomes her. "I see our new guest is here! Come along now. I cannot wait to meet Frisk's other parent!"

"Inna second, Tori," Sans says, grinning up at your ex. "Just havin' a talk with 'im first."

The goat lady nods, and a knowing look's exchanged between them two; she then closes the door after that, leaving you be.

Overwhelmed and in need of some painkillers for a future headache, you take a step back meanwhile, not quite in favour of getting caught up between your ex and a monster with a seemingly one-sided crush on you. 

"What more could there be to talk about?" Jerry asks, scowling. "If I'd known it was (Y/N) you'd been talking about this whole time, I would've _never_ told you to try giving it a shot!"

He storms off inside the house and closes the door shut, leaving you alone with the skeleton, who soon beckons you over with his irises, a look of caution visible in them. 

"You okay, pal?" he asks, hands going back in his pockets. "Sorry I got ya mixed up in all this. I know you don't want any drama, but I really didn't think he'd figure me out like this."

You stand by the door and lean against the wall while you consider his words. 

It doesn't take too long for a smile to show up on your face. You sigh, choosing to believe him for now. "It's alright," you say, dismissing his words. "The look you gave each other before this kind of... showed that." You pause, curiosity intervening. "How did you guys become friends, anyway? Didn't he pretty much hate your guts a while back?"

"Met 'im again while workin' at a hot dog stand, so we've been able to talk some more since then." Sans joins your side, similar to the day at Waterfall, but with an easier atmosphere present between you. "He came over to grab a bite, we found some stuff in common, and then we kinda just became friends from there on -- Surprisingly." He hums, a faint chuckle interrupting it. "We started talkin' about our love lives two weeks into gettin' to know each other. And about a month after you confronted me over at that restaurant." His hands leave his pockets, these placing themselves behind his skull as he further reclines against the wall. "I told 'im I'd met someone I was interested in, but when he asked for specifics, I said they weren't really into me. Told 'im they were a single parent, and that maybe that had somethin' to do with them not fallin' easily enough for my flirtin'."

He stops, though you still want to hear more. You nod at him, hope over him carrying on remaining. "Is... Is that all?"

"You'll get mad at me if I keep tellin' you what I told 'im about you."

"I can't promise I won't, but I'll try not to."

The monster takes in a breath, and his relaxed state is then replaced by a subtle mousiness he tries to cover up, mainly by remaining calm and casual.

"I told him your stubbornness and integrity were kinda just... _hot_ , and that I had a thing for not only your looks, but just you, in general -- As a person, I mean."

"Do you still feel that way about me?"

You don't know what makes you blurt that question out, but it's far too late for you to dwell over it now of all times.

"Of course I do," Sans says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I told Jerry 'bout that last part just a few days ago." He stops again, breathing in deep once more. "I was, well, only doing it for fun back when it started. But now... Now I really mean it when I flirt with you, (Y/N)."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be Mondays and Fridays starting after Part 2 of this chapter!
> 
> Not only will my Beastars, Mario, and She-Ra fanfics be returning this Friday (meaning I'll have plenty more stuff to work with), but I've reached a personal milestone in terms of my studies, so I'll be celebrating that soon!!


End file.
